All is For the One
by SorainaSkye
Summary: "Don't be shocked that people die, be surprised you're still alive." Six years after the promised day, some people are desperate to get revenge. EdWin, Royai, AlMei, LingRan.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! I posted this story as a whole, and after some editing, decided to re-post one chapter at a time. :P So this was written for FMA Big Bang on livejournal, and contains many many OCs. A few facts to keep in mind:

Areugo I based on Italy, and Creta on Greece. Canon pairings, as is my usual preference, also abound in here! :D

Rated M because of language, sex, and some violence.

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><p><em>"Don't be shocked that people die; be surprised you're still alive." –Cassie, acoustic version, Flyleaf<em>

Chapter One

The man waited in the darkness, the sounds of celebration echoing up to him. He peered out through the scope into the bright sunshine, perfectly calm. His finger inched toward the trigger, and he mimed shooting the face down below. Smiling just a little, he pulled back.

"Now," he mused. "Where would it hurt you the most?" He pointed the gun to each part listed. "Your arm? Your leg?" He focused on the other face nearby, watching, as always, "No. Your heart will take the pain."

He watched down below for a few more moments, watched them in their stupid assurance. They did not believe that justice would find them. He stood, looking back to greet the other person entering the room. The taller man walked forward, still mostly concealed by shadow, the faint light just barely illuminating the scars on his face, and his blood red eyes. "We must be sure in our choice," he said. "Wouldn't the proposed wife be a better fit?"

"You have not been observing here. Look out the window, and you will see the perfect choice." Perhaps this Ishvalan man- a man who had just much a right as he to fight for justice- was too soft. His words had been filled with conviction, but mere words were useless. Few understood this, and anger coiled within. How could they fight for justice without proper resolve?

The fire cooled. No, now was not the time to think such thoughts. Soon, he and the Victor would prune all those not committed, but only time would tell who those were. The Victor had said this other was worthy, and as such would be welcomed as a brother. They stood for justice; they alone would bring goodness and righteousness back to the world.

"You are our Star in the darkness, correct?"

The man gave a brief nod, expressionless. "You are to be known as 'The King' for now. Our Victor told me much about you."

The mention of the one leading them calmed any remaining doubts The King had.

The Star took the offered gun, looking through the scope into the crowd below. "This girl- not the future wife, not his closest sister; this quiet one in the back will bring him to his knees. Besides, the sister is already slated to be used."

The Star nodded, giving the gun back. "You spoke the truth. Not once do their eyes meet, but he knows where she is. Not once does the public see them communicate, but these outward signs are not needed. It is in their every move, the slightest flick of their eyes."

The King gave a faint smile. "You speak of this as if you know it well."

The Star shrugged, still watching the crowd below. The faint light made the scars on his face seem deeply etched, as if in stone. "The General and his wife are the same. I've observed them for a long time." His hand clenched upon the window sill. "I survived the war. Survived my family, because that man saw fit to burn my house to the ground, with them alive inside, and that woman saw fit to shoot those that escaped. The violence against my family and my people cannot be atoned for, not until all of Amestris suffers the same fate."

"And that man below?" The King asked, fighting a grin. The more people saw their side, the more evil would bleed.

The Ishvalan scowled. "He is their ally. We can offer no quarter toward Amestris or its allies." He glanced out the window again. "After the Emperor has been discarded, I will welcome the people as our allies."

"If they follow the path of justice," The King supplied. He knew that such people had the potential to be wondrous and good, like the Wise One helping them. "If they see the right, then they shall join us, and be thankful we helped them to escape such rule."

The Star smiled for the first time, a bitter smile that promised terror and pain for the evil ones. "I must be cruel, if only to be kind. Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind."

The King inclined his head, and they both turned to watch the bright street. "In the end," he whispered, remembering _her_ screams, _her_ blood, the demons that had destroyed himself, _her_, and the life they had created. "Their blood will collect in the gutters, and find its way to a foul underbelly. Our Victor is leading us down the right path, and with him we will watch them suffer. First their hearts-" he gestured outside, "and their minds. Then their bodies, their last tie to the earth. From there, their souls will fly to the dark depths waiting for them."

"Perhaps for our crimes to come, we will soon follow." The Star turned away from the window, watching the shadows, his face set.

"Then so shall we suffer. But our way truth, justice, and if we are to die, or to exist in anguish forever, the way will be cleared for those we love." The King closed his eyes, his jaw clenched. "They ripped out my Queen's heart; let her blood stain the floor with the remains of a new life." He did not bother to hold back the rough sob, the hate and misery pushing out of his mouth. "We must _destroy_ them as they destroyed us, if we are to have peace."

"Some rise by sin," The Star said quietly, still watching the shadows. "And some by virtue fall."

"_They_ will fall!" The King hissed, ripping away part of the dead plaster from the wall.

"Yes. They will." The Star spoke with deadly promise, and raised his eyes toward the ceiling. "Ishvala, guide me on this journey."

The King forced himself to calm. He needed his energy for the fight. "How is everything with our Victor? Is he well? What of my Queen?" Communications were slow and careful for good reason, but as a result he was often left waiting in fear as to the condition of those he loved.

"The plans have all been initiated perfectly. We have a young man under the very nose of General Armstrong and the betrayer Scar. Our Victor is well, and is secured with his country's current ruler, the alchemists and the military suspect nothing. Your Queen has been employed, working with the Wise One, and has assured us that everything works better than we could have hoped. I will wait among my people, and assist the young man with the traitor Scar."

"While I take my place with the Cretian ambassadors." The King found his finger inching toward the trigger again. He remembered her face, all of her blood, her broken body, and what had been stolen from them by the demons.

It took all of his effort to wait longer, to not punish the evil now; it was only the knowledge that the planned end would be more satisfying, that stayed his hand. Without a word, he turned and left the room, clutching the gun to his chest.

"Soon," he vowed.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

He watched as the ground shot up, forming towering spikes, blue energy crackling around the tips. A woman with long black beaded hair sliced through the spikes, throwing some knives to the ground.

"You'll have to do better than that!" Her hands hit the ground, and blue light connected the knives, creating circles. Immediately, the surface of the ground before her exploded, the smoke hiding her from view.

A girl ran through the smoke, drawing a quick circle with her foot in the dirt, throwing her own knives to make two more circles. Her palms slammed to the ground, making a giant hollow arrow that propelled itself forward through the smoke. The girl straightened, panting, and tucked her short black hair behind her ear. Suddenly she whirled around as the woman emerged from the side, meeting the oncoming knife with one of her own.

The woman smirked, drawing back. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you, pupil? You still have much to learn."

The girl bowed. "With your teaching, I have come far. I will go farther still, no matter what!"

The woman's lips twitched, and then she seemed to force herself to scowl. "You have to work harder tomorrow before we leave. Don't' think you won't train in Amestris either." She leaned close with a sly smile. "Or in the desert."

The girl set her chin, dark eyes flashing. "I'll work hard no matter the setting."

"Mei, stop teasing Jia. You know very well we'll hardly have the strength to walk, let alone train." He walked toward them as the smoke cleared, shaking his blond hair out of his equally golden eyes. The spell between master and pupil was broken as Mei bounded forward into his waiting arms. "I have to say, though, Jia, you really ought to challenge my brother when we reach Amestris. I'd like to see his face when you beat him!"

Jia laughed as the man held out his other arm to her. Mei glanced back to make sure no one was watching, and then gestured Jia forward, her own arm held out in invitation.

Jia ran into their arms, closing her eyes. He felt her warmth between them, both he and Mei clutching her tighter. After all this time, they were family. "What's for dinner, Al?"

"Mei's cooking," Al said, nuzzling said woman, who giggled, kissing the tip of his nose.

Jia blanched. "Oh. Really? Perhaps I'll eat in the palace tonight after all…"

Even with the lightness of the situation, Al knew that would never happen. Not if Jia could prevent it, or Ling for that matter.

Mei glared, sticking out her tongue. "Oh no, you won't!"

The two continued to argue as they all clasped hands, walking back to the city. Al smiled as he watched them, though his thoughts were not on their words.

Mei nudged Jia so hard she nearly toppled over. She giggled, and tried to hide behind Al, Xiao Mei climbing up Al's shoulder and watching with amusement. Mei's black hair whipped around as she ran from Jia, still laughing. Even as a girl, she had been cute, but over the years she had grown into a beautiful woman. Al's smile grew, that was what the outside world saw; but to him she had always been beautiful. Her eyes were still wide, childlike, and sneaky. She could make him laugh until it hurt, and cry for sheer happiness. She had not been afraid of him in the armor. She had been there when he'd existed as nothing but a scared boy in a hollow shell. Sometimes she had stayed awake with him at night, talking. About her distant mother, whose place in the Emperor's bed had been secured by her beauty. From the moment after Mei's birth, she did not care to know her daughter. This fact hardly bothered Mei; others in her clan loved her, so she never felt the absence of parents. Her family had grown ever since; now she had Al, Ed, Winry, Ling, and Jia.

As they approached the town, Jia let go of their hands, walking ahead of them. Until Al and Mei were married, it would not be acceptable for her to be seen holding hands with another man.

Mei drew closer to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. The roads were muddy and they stayed toward the side so they wouldn't get splashed while others passed by. Jia jumped easily up on the low rock wall following the road, her arms out on either side for balance. A few older people shot her scandalized looks, but most did not care; society had been changing under Ling's rule, and besides, Jia did have some sort of diplomatic immunity with her position.

She kept her shoulders back and her chin up. Wind blew lightly at her short hair, a small braid Mei had done the night before poking out from behind her ear. She reached up, grabbing a rain sodden branch, laughing as the cool drops slid down her face and over the freckles around her nose and under her eyes.

Al smiled, feeling Mei's shoulders shake with silent laughter. His smile faded, even while he tried to reassure himself. _She will still be able to laugh and smile. Ling will treat her well._

Xing was changing. To the young, these changes ranged from exciting to confusing, but for all of those that had grown up with the rigid traditions, the changes were foreign and unwelcome. The laws may have changed, but much of society had not. Al knew that people's minds would have to change first; they were facing a similar problem back in Amestris. He supposed that some of the looks they were getting were for him and Mei as well. She ignored their whispers and stares, her jaw tight. He held her tighter. Mei was powerful, both politically and physically- her consenting to marry a poor Amestrian alchemist caused quite a stir. Ling and Jia's quiet rebellion caused another.

_He'd never be happy with anyone but Ran Fan. And Ran Fan can never marry him, because she has to keep him safe._

A few bowed as they passed; his skills and his relationship with Mei and Jia gave him some positive recognition too, and a few even sent smiles his way. Jia hopped off the wall as it ended, walking closer to Mei as they approached the market.

One wife. That was revolutionary to the culture, something Ling had been trying to push through for quite a while. Finally, in light of the contest between the many princes and princesses, society had begun to see his reasoning. One wife, out of any of the clans. It just so happened that Jia was the only one of marrying age; all the others were too young, too old, or already married.

They passed the close clustered houses of the merchants and the market, the crowd thicker. People shouted out prices and special offers, or demands to see more merchandise. A shop selling hand woven silks and tapestries was enough to make Jia pause, though she shook her head when Mei asked if she wanted to stop.

As Emperor, Ling would be allowed to take a concubine if he wished, but Al knew Ling would never- could never- ask that of Ran Fan.

Jia, as ignorant as the rest of the country in regards to Ling and his most faithful bodyguard, knew that she also had no choice. It had been coming on for a few years; her mother and father glowed with the triumph and honor awarded them for their daughter being the Emperor's sole wife.

_That's all they care about,_ Al thought bitterly. _They have a lovely, powerful, smart, kind, daughter and all that matters is who she marries. _Mei squeezed his hand, and he felt himself relax, unable to keep from smiling a little. She always seemed able to read his mind.

Jia was not beautiful in a way that was immediately noticed. Still young, she had not quite grown into her body yet; she had small lips and too-long arms in comparison to her legs. Slightly shorter than Mei, she had a larger quantity of freckles than most Xingians, and somewhat limp hair. But, like with Mei, Al saw that she was indeed beautiful. When she smiled, when she was determined to win; she was beautiful in all the accidental ways that many overlooked, and her features showed that more beauty would come with age.

The streets became less crowded, houses farther apart. Men pushed wheel barrels full of food past, a healing and alchemy clinic taking up the space of five houses. Father up the road, the Emperor's palace stood on top of a hill, surrounded by great walls and flowering trees. Xing was in its prince season; bright colors and fresh grass greeted him everywhere Al turned.

Until Ling and Jia married, she lived with Al and Mei in a house just within the walls of the palace. The house stood, grander than many in town, with two floors and a garden, though plain in architecture. Looking at the outside, it was hard to imagine that they'd lived there for all those years. Inside the house was a different story.

The walls were dotted with tapestries and photographs. A tapestry an older woman had made for them, depicting Al and Mei sitting under a blossoming tree on a hill, covered one side of the living room wall, while photos covered much of the other side.

The photo of Ed and Winry's wedding a year ago hung most prominently next to the tapestry, Ed's broad grin and Winry's glowing smile shining still through the photo, no matter the passage of time.

Al smiled, sharing a glance with Mei as they passed, thinking of how Granny Pinako had sung a drunken duet with Havoc (the latter being dragged off later by an equally drunk but slightly steadier Rebecca Catalina, to a place in the woods not quite far enough away to hide their sounds). Or how Ed's own eyes had glinted with happy tears. Al had been shaking when he'd made the toast- not from nerves, but because in that moment, looking out at all their friends and family, he knew that through the triumph and the sorrow, they would make it. That their whole lives were ahead of them.

A picture of Jia was next to that, hair dripping wet from falling in the rive, while another with the three of them was under that, along with a few pictures from when he was a child, and two from his days in the armor. One had Ed and Winry; Winry's arms wrapped around one of his, Ed in front of them, grinning. The other was in central; Maes Hughes, one arm around Al back in his armor, the other ruffling Ed' s hair, while Mustang, Hawkeye, and the others were clearly trying not to laugh. Ed's mouth was partly open, arms blurred as he reached up to slap Hughes's hand away.

For a while they were mostly silent, helping Mei cut vegetables, boil water, and take out the plates.

"When you love someone," He'd told Jia once, "You are happy to just sit in silence with them."

All those moments, even hours, of silence with Ed and Winry flashed behind his eyes. It was hard sometimes, being apart from them, and yet he was not sad. No matter the distance, nothing between them would ever change. They would always be a family. Winry had been there to cry for them, to say kind words and mean them, to be the strength that pushed them forward when they started to forget about the home that was waiting. Ed never gave up; not down in that awful hole fighting the homunculi, not after their mother had died. He was the one that helped them both to have the strength to look back, to remember those waiting. Al- he knew that he had been there to protect them too, as they had both protected him so many times, in so many small ways.

Though distance did not change their feelings for each other, still he could not wait to see them again. He reached for a sharper knife to cut up some particularly stubborn carrots, and then stopped as a knock sounded on the door. His hand clenched upon the knife as a voice rose beyond the door-

"I come bearing a message for the Lady Jia, from Emperor Ling Yao!"

Mei approached the door swiftly, Al right behind. Peeking through the eyehole for a moment, Mei opened the door to reveal a young man in rather traditional garments. He bowed low to all three of them, his rather impressive, though thin, mustache flapping. "The Emperor wishes for you to come to the palace, so that his seamstresses may make sure that the clothing for your travels fit."

A small role of paper lay in the messenger's hand. Jia, her face expressionless, took the scroll, unfolding it. Her eyes quickly scanned the words, and then she handed it to Al without looking back at him. "Take care of this."

He was not offended by the command. This was how she was to act around others. Quickly reading the message himself, Al looked toward Mei, and gave a nod. She nodded back in understanding, turning to the messenger.

"Inform the Emperor that Lady Jia needs her sleep. We have a long journey ahead." Mei spoke sharply, her anger not directed toward the messenger, or Ling, at all. "She can try on the clothes tomorrow night while we are on the train."

_Sorry, _the note said. _The council is all over me about you hardly being here. But if Mei uses her influence it will be acceptable for you to miss this._

"As Jia's teacher, caretaker, and bodyguard, I can assure you that she needs her rest." She rummaged through the papers on the table, finding a clean one, and quickly wrote out a response. "This should suffice. Bid the Emperor and the council good evening, and a safe night. Farewell."

He barely had time to bow again before she all but shut the door in his face.

There was silence. Jia stared at the door, her face still expressionless.

"Jia?" Al touched her arm, sharing a concerned look with Mei.

"I can only put it off so long." She spoke quietly. "Here I am, not the prettiest or the smartest, yet still it must be me. Soon I will be pampered and beautified, and honored beyond belief. I will be the Xingese face of alchemy. Someday I will bear the Emperor a child- the sooner, the better, right?"

They pulled closer to her, and she turned toward them, her voice becoming thick. "I'll be okay…" She gave a slight smile, lip trembling. "He'll be good to me, won't he?"

"The best," Al whispered, bringing her to his chest, Mei encircling her from behind, smoothing back her hair. Jia had always seemed to more or less accept her fate- but now he realized that she had always been hoping that somehow, she could get out of it.

Jia cleared her throat, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I'll be fine. He's a good man. I'll be provided for. I'll be fine."

"Shhh," Mei said softly. "We're here. Close your eyes, little one."

Gently, Mei began to sing a song he faintly remembered, while continuing to stroke Jia's hair. After a moment, Al joined in as the words came back to him.

_As the seas part_

_And the skies flame_

_Cool the fire with your rain_

_Carry out the sun with your hands_

_Close your eyes_

_Fly with me_

_And please smile again_

They stood like that, singing softly, and Al remembered his mother singing to them at night, or when they were sick. He remembered Winry's bright laughter, her tears, and her kind words; his brother's hand on his shoulder or the metallic echo from him lightly rapping the old armor with his knuckles.

_Family is never gone_

_Forever in your heart_

_Even if we have to go_

_We'll whisper from the flowing earth_

_And sing with the leaves_

_Be in the mirrored water_

_And in the long shadows_

_Never will you be alone_

Jia joined them on the last few words, her voice trembling.

_So, close your eyes_

_Little one, my love_

_And please smile, again._


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to start uploading this again. :) Not much to say about this chapter, just basic set up and EdWin cuteness. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Own, I do not.

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><p><span>Chapter Two<span>

"….with important dignitaries and rulers from all over the world coming together in Central, it is the hope of viewers everywhere that Fuhrer Grumman and the newly appointed councilor, General Mustang, will push forward legislation that will lead us to true peace. Now, I have a very special guest with me today, a Doctor Tim Marcoh, who has revolutionized the field of biological alchemy in the form of healing…"

Ed smiled to himself as Marcoh answered, holding out the money needed to the man behind the register, who nodded in thanks.

"Thank you very much, but in all honesty I cannot take much credit, for it is because of the fine alchemists in Xing- Mei Chang in particular, and of course Alphonse Elric, ambassador to Xing along with his brother the FullMetal Alchemist- for without the knowledge that they have, we would be even farther behind when it comes to medicine. A lot of the alchemic process has helped us to understand what we must do to heal the body without alchemy as well…"

Ed paused for a moment, still smiling, and then walked out the door, a bag under one arm, a book under the other.

The sun shone down on his shoulders, and the sound of laughter met his ears. _I've missed this place._ _Winry and I needed a break before all these talks in Central…_ He frowned, walking along the path that led to Granny Pinako's.

_Ishval reform, our relations with the other countries, alchemy, automail, and the future of our own country…all to be discussed as casually as what to have for dinner? Right. If only._ He gave a heavy sigh, and smiled again as the house came into view. _But…it's a start. And I think we'll make some progress. In any case, we won't know till we're there._

Den came running out to meet him, and the smile turned into a laugh as the dog ran in circles around him, barking and licking at his wrists.

He caught sight of Winry waving at him from the window, sunlight glinting off the ring on her finger. Ed grinned, waving back, feeling an identical ring on his own finger. Winry disappeared back inside, and as he walked up the steps he could faintly hear her humming.

For a moment he stood on the porch, listening to the melody she was probably making up on the spot, his smile softer. He was home; not because he was in Resembool, but because the people he loved were waiting for him inside. Well, almost all the people he loved. Sometimes Al being gone was like a physical ache, but it didn't change anything really. Al was still his brother, his home, his family, right along with Winry.

He brought in the sugar she'd needed to finish off the apple pie. Upon closer inspection there was flour on the side of her nose, spread across her cheeks like freckles.

"Thanks, Ed." She grinned, beautiful and somehow childlike at the same time, eyes bright.

He could not help smiling back.

Being in Resembool was sometimes like returning home after a long absence, but other times it was like a place he only vaguely knew. Everything changed; after all those years gone, he didn't recognize the place he'd grown up in. The only constant had been the Rockbell's house, and the ashes left by his mother's home. But in this house, or sometimes when he closed his eyes and walked outside, and all he could hear was the sheep or people laughing and talking, he felt for a moment as if he were back in time. It was surreal and also comforting, to know that no matter how much things did change, those memories, and the very core of Resembool itself, would not. Still, there would come a time when the conductor at the train station would not recognize him, when the store keepers stopped greeting him by name. Soon he would become a face among many, one that parents had spoken of, and that children did not know. It was hard to think about, at times. But he'd long ago learned that home was not a place, but rather the people kept closest to your heart. With that, he was happy- happier than he could ever have imagined himself being, no matter how he had dreamed of things he would do once Al had been returned to his body. This happiness could not be measured, but rather was made up of shouts, whispered promises, catching fireflies, helping Al to walk again, feeling Den's fur in his right hand, or Winry's skin on his own. Granny welcoming them back without a second thought, smoke curling around her head, teasing and laughing and bringing out old pictures, or hearing her own stories (some of which he would have preferred to not know). Hearing his brother's real voice at night before sleep, eating together, staying up all night discussing theories and plans and reliving adventures. Telling the hard parts to Winry, and when he lost his voice looking over to Al and knowing that his brother would continue. Getting married, arguing with Mustang, making stupid speeches and sending letters to Ling. Traveling, but this time with eagerness to tell it all, and an ache to return home.

Pinako was in the kitchen, standing on a stool and stirring a gigantic pot of stew. "Ed? You get the milk like I asked?"

He made a face. "Yeah, yeah, here's the poison. Put it in there quick before I remember what it is." He handed her the jar, and she chuckled. "What I would have paid to see _you_ buying milk!"

Ed scowled as Winry giggled. "Shut up, hag." He smirked. "Besides, I'm no longer a shrimp, so why does it matter if I drink milk or not?"

Pinako raised her eyebrows. "Ed, you'd be even taller if you'd just buckled down and drank milk once in a while."

Winry snorted as they continued to snap at each other, not quite able to hide their smirks. She paused for a moment, and then spun around, turning up the radio.

Ed's retort was forgotten as the voice filled the room.

"…thank you once again, Doctor Marcoh, we'll be getting back with you later in the hour. Now here in the studio with us is General Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, and Member of Parliament, to tell us about the groundbreaking events of the coming weeks. Mr. Mustang?"

"Thank you, I'm glad to be here."

Ed rolled his eyes, but moved to stand by Winry, listening as the interview continued.

"So, what is the main focus of the historic meetings to come?"

"Our main focus is a combination of many things," Roy said. "Trade, for example. For a long time now we have not bargained well with other countries, and we wish to change that. For one, we have several automail engineers coming to demonstrate the uses of prosthetic limbs."

Ed looked over at Winry, who was grinning so hard he wondered if she'd be able to move her mouth again afterward.

"Like Winry Elric, wife of the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

Ed could imagine Roy nodding. "Yes, she is one, along with a mister Carl Webb, and representatives from the other countries as well. Other new waves of technology will also be shown; tanks, for example, are still fairly new, and we also want to showcase brand new airplanes and hot air balloons. Aside from trade we plan to heavily discuss the alchemy programs implemented around the continent. There is a possibility that we will open school programs for alchemy- only open to those over eighteen."

"And of course there is the issue of alchemists in war," the host added shrewdly.

Roy paused for a moment. "There is that, too. We hope to reach agreements about many things in the treaties, and to not repeat horrible mistakes of the past. We want to look forward, and are even planning to look into exploration of the ocean. However, above all else we are striving for unity." Roy stopped for a second, and then went on. "We are as weak as we are divided, and if we all work together we can move toward days of peace."

Ed felt himself smile, and pulled Winry close. Peace, happiness, freedom, and love, the best of things in life.

And the best peace was with Winry, Al, Pinako, their friends and those they loved. It came not just with quiet, but also with breathless laughter, scolding, and shouts.

"And what do you say, Mr. Mustang, about the strong allegations against the reforms and government? The article from Col. Douglas saying that we are letting a murderer head up a policy for Ishval and that such an action will only lead to more destruction? That we have traded one corrupt government for a new one with just as many secrets, one that disguises itself with words of peace?"

Ed froze, and Winry's hand clenched on his arm.

For a moment, there was only static.

"That-" Dr. Marcoh began, and then stopped, seeming unable to finish.

"It's alright, Doctor," Roy said, and Ed pictured the other man putting a hand on Marcoh's shoulder. "It is a more than fair thing to ask." There was another moment of silence, and then he went on. "War," he said softly, "is a terrible thing. And at the end of the day, all the soldiers who were in the war try and go home and tell themselves that in war terrible things are 'allowed', like changing rules in a children's game. This is why we glorify in our victories, and we make ourselves appear to forget the fear and deadly power in our hands. We never speak of looking in their eyes before they died, of the times we threw up afterward. The guilt of such actions is often overwhelming. It would help some if you had believed in the cause, but that is not the case of the Ishval war. For that, I cannot even offer an excuse. King Bradley kept the war going, but so did we. So did I. For that there is no apology that is acceptable, and people have a right to say that I deserve to pay for my crimes." Again he paused, and Ed cursed to himself. _Don't fuck yourself over, Mustang. You're gonna owe me money for a long time yet._

"Some still call me 'The Hero of Ishval' and I despise the title. There were few heroes in that war. Because I killed others, some more men lived and are grateful to me, but that does not make me a true hero. It makes me a man scared for my life and the lives of my men. There were heroes like the priest…that offered up his own life to end the conflict. Heroes like the doctors Sarah and Urey Rockbell, who gave comfort and medicine to those on both sides of the war, and died helping a man."

Winry's head bent, and her fingers tightened on Ed's arm again. He put his palm over hers, feeling her strength, lending her his own.

"I am no hero. I fought for my life. I killed. And I cannot sit and allow this to continue. I cannot let people to continue to look at Ishvalans and see them as anything besides what they are: human, like everyone else. I cannot stand by and let these terrible happenings be the only thing remembered by the children in the future. I cannot walk the streets and know that the Ishvalans are hungry and hated, and do nothing. That is why I push for these reforms. Not to try and erase my sins, because that is impossible, but to give life after so many years of seeing nothing but death. So people will see the similarities instead of tiny differences of eye color and religion. I will not rest until these reforms have gone through and things change for the better."

Roy paused and said finally, "I want to help people. No government is perfect but if we work together for the people, we can change, we can grow."

Ed couldn't help but smile sadly, and Winry stood on tip toes to kiss his forehead.

Silence filled the airwaves for a long moment. Then a sharp sound, like a slap, made them jump. It came again, and went faster; Dr. Marcoh was clapping. "Thank you," he said, and the host seemed to come to his senses.

"Oh, um, yes- ah, thank you, Mr. Mustang. I'm afraid we are out of time for now." His voice regained the professional edge. "When we return, we'll be back with Dr. Tim Marcoh to further delve into alchemy. Thank you."

Static filled the air again, replaced by music within seconds. Winry turned back to finish the pie.

Ed ran a hand over his face. "Good thing the bastard is politically savvy. He knows how to be honest and not get himself arrested."

"So many people don't actually _listen_," Winry said softly, now rolling out the dough. "They pick out a few words in between, add them all together, and hear something else entirely. So they get scared and angry and no matter how you try, they won't consider anything otherwise. People are even more stubborn than you, Ed," she accused fondly.

Ed snorted, "Like you're one to talk."

She stuck her tongue out at him, laughing as he flicked four at her.

Pinako grinned around her pipe, and then turned thoughtful.

"Grandma, you have a sort of odd look on your face," Winry frowned. "What is it?"

Pinako chuckled. "I'm thinking in two minds right now. One is thinking that you two remind me of your parents when they were together. It was a thing you could see as well as feel how much they loved each other."

Ed grinned, yanking on Winry's hair. He was long past times when he would have blushed and stammered denials. Winry retaliated by pulling hard at his ponytail. It was hard to keep their hands off each other now, even in an innocent manner.

Pinako's smile turned grim, and only that gained their attention again. "The other part of me was thinking about what you just said, Winry. The fact is that a _person_ is smart, kind, reasonable, and understanding, but people are irrational, angry, and stupid. And yet…" She stopped. "Sometimes when we get together, there are times we all seem to hear, all work with each other and strive to understand. It's hard to get people united to that point, but I think that Mustang and you kids," she gestured at them with her pipe, "have a chance. People will continue to mess up. It's what human's do, but maybe…"

Winry smiled and Ed wrapped his arms around her. She felt so soft and strong at the same time, corded muscle and warm beauty, all in one. "Maybe," they agreed.

Once, Ed would have been content to forget the idea of 'maybe'; would have been convinced of the world and its ways, but no more. He couldn't lie in fear or misery because people were stupid or cruel, and forget that they were also smart and kind. He let people in, helped and protected them with all of his heart, and came home to a place he _knew_ was home.

Later, as they stood together in the room they shared, Ed turned up the radio again, letting music fill the room. Times like this filled him up with a combination of nervousness and joy, being home with those he loved, taking a change and being silly.

Ed grabbed Winry's hand in his own, and pulled her close. Her smile hit him as always, more powerful than a punch in the gut, more soothing than a hand on his head. He wiggled his hips and they laughed as he twirled her out and back in, ducking under the other's arm and meeting again in the middle.

Her face was flushed, eyes bright, and he kissed her, past sorrows and coming fears forgotten as his hands found her hips, working at stubborn buttons, her own hands moving as fast to get off his pants, catching themselves as they nearly tripped over their falling clothes, giggling when Winry's knee kept sliding off of the bed and Ed hit his head on the wall, past the time when it had been lovingly embarrassing, awkward, or had hurt. Now perfect in imperfection, made with sweat and slick hands, eager mouths and whispered cries. Each time was different, precious, recalled in memories of touch and expression; tangled hair and sore limbs.

When it was over, they laid together, calming down their breath, her head cradled in his arms, the most precious thing he'd ever carried.

"They're bringing Jia, right?" Winry asked quietly, and he nodded. "I wish I could help them."

"So do I." _Ling and Ran Fan knew what they were doing, what they were chasing and what it would mean. Doesn't make things any better, though._

She traced little circles on his arm. "I wonder if Jia knows."

"Doubt it." Ed shifted a little, pulling the pillow under his head. "No one in their country can tell, so how could she? We only know because we know Ling and Ran Fan better than the country does."

Winry nodded. "It'll be nice to see them." Bonds could not be broken by space or time, and it was painful in a way hard to explain that their friends were so unhappy, while they had everything.

"Wonder when Al n' Mei will tie the knot. They've been engaged longer than we've been married."

She smiled. "I always knew they'd end up married." She kissed his neck. "And I always knew I'd end up here, too."

Ed grinned. "Naked in my bed?"

"_My_ bed," Winry corrected, laughing. "And yes."

"I think I knew somewhere in my thick skull," Ed said thoughtfully. "By the time I really realized it, it seemed so obvious."

Winry chuckled wryly. "It did seem like 'finally' was the collective thought process as far as we were concerned." She closed her eyes, and Ed gently brushed back her hair, silvery in the evening light.

"Do you think things will work out in Central?" Winry's voice was slightly muffled, her cheek against his chest.

"Not everything, not exactly the way we want. Not yet. But we won't give up."

"Never," she agreed.

"A lot of the dignitaries are just as tired of the fighting as we are. Drachma's our biggest problem, as far as that goes."

Winry smirked. "Good thing General Olivier Armstrong will be there."

Ed shuddered, even as he smiled. "Why am I surrounded by such frightening women?"

Winry shrugged. "We have to keep you in line somehow." Her voice gained a playful lilt as she added- "We know how to make you squirm." She tickled his stomach and he jerked, grabbing her hand. "Winry!"

"Eeeed," she cooed, sitting up and leaning down to kiss him.

"So bossy," he grumbled, smiling.

"Well…" Winry kissed his neck and lay back down. "We'd better make sure to pack Maisa's presents," Ed added suddenly. "Or we'll never hear the end of it from the bastard."

"Oh, like your heart wouldn't just break at the look on Maisa's face?" Winry poked him in the side.

Ed grinned again. "Well, she's an odd kid. Good though, and smart as hell. And cute," he admitted. "Bastard's lucky she looks like her mom." He made a face. "Knowing that, she'll end up as scary as Riza too." Even after all these years, calling them by their first names was sometimes odd, but he was getting used to it. He paused, and went on more seriously. "Maisa kinda reminds me of you, me, and Al, actually."

"Too smart for her own good?" Winry smiled a little sadly. "Even so, she is still a kid. She's afraid of the dark and carries a teddy bear. Most people forget that and don't get along with her as a result. They think she's weird. Riza mentioned that in her letters," Winry explained. "Kids tease Maisa. Who her father is doesn't help; it makes them think she's spoiled or that she assumes she's better than them."

He frowned. "Stupid kids. I'm surprised they haven't been flayed alive yet." He held Winry tighter for a moment. "We'll make sure she smiles till it hurts."  
>"Good."<p>

Things were changing every second, but through it all there were constants. Winry, Al, Pinako. How much Ed knew he owed Roy. That the sun would rise, that they would keep trying.

In a lot of ways, equivalent exchange still dictated his actions; give and get. It sounded so simple on the surface. But nothing was equal to his home, his family, his brother and Winry. Loosing them- the thought woke him in the night like a whimpering child, and it was the only thing close to a miracle he'd ever known to have Winry there to hold him.

So at times like these, he prayed without praying, that she would not be taken from him, like his mother, his father, and Hughes.

_I won't let that happen._

Moonlight fell on their skin, and after a time his eyes drifted closed, Winry's even breath ghosting along his skin.


	3. Chapter 3

A few notes for this chapter:

Fuwaad means "heart". Maisa is pronounced like Maes-uh (and yes, is named after Hughes). Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Nope, nada, zilch. Don't own FMA.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Three<span>

The boy stared out the window, expression fixed, shoulders tense, fingers tapping at the sill impatiently.

"Fuwaad," Scar said, and the boy looked over, his expression changing a little. He was young, no older than eighteen, with the short messy hair that young boys all seemed to have. There was a small scar hooking around his jaw, and living in the slums had given him a strong build from a harrowing life. His name meant heart, and though the boy seemed reluctant to show it, it seemed to Scar that he had been named well.

_I left my own name behind, buried. I now fit this borrowed name more than my other._

"Yes?"

"Can you tell where we are?"

The boy shook his head. Though he had first been shocked at the sight of so much green landscape, boredom had settled in since.

Scar gestured out the window. "What do you hear?"

Fuwaad paused, and once against Scar caught a glimpse of the youth kept determinedly hidden. "Sheep?"

Across the way, General Olivier Armstrong drawled, "Brilliant observation." Her legs were crossed, her ever present sword lying across her lap. She focused her hard gaze on the boy. "You can tell more about a location with your senses than with anything you learn in books. Animals, agriculture, land, all are there for you to take in. It is foolish to not do so."

Fuwaad bristled slightly at her tone- truthfully it took a long while to get used to Olivier Armstrong- but nodded, leaning forward, as if his entire being were taking in her words.

"Names do not always matter," Scar said, threading his fingers together. "If you do not know the name of a place, you may still find your way around by what you observe."

Fuwaad nodded, closing his eyes.

Protégée was not the word for him. Fuwaad was there to learn, to explore. He was being taught politics, swordplay, martial arts, how to use a gun, survival, philosophy, and medicine. He was a more than capable soldier, though not particularly skilled with a gun; he had subjects which he felt passionately about, and carried a sword of his own. Medicine came naturally, odd for someone also so apt at fighting, but there was a natural ability there, one that could not be dismissed.

Partially, it was for that that Scar had allowed the boy to come. Winry Rockbell would be in Central- automail engineer and competent in medicine, the meeting would hopefully show Fuwaad possibilities.

No, protégée was not the right word. Fuwaad had been brought to him by a man claiming to be his uncle, ragged and begging that Scar take on the boy- teach him, give him a place to live. Fuwaad had practically been shoved forward, equally scruffy, and had met his eyes for only a moment.

"He's too soft," General Armstrong had commented dismissively. "Can tell that with one glance."

The boy's eyes had flicked to her, and in that moment Scar made his choice.

"Perhaps soft enough. Come."

Months had passed and the young boy was polite, quiet, intelligent, and through it all Scar sensed the boy's anger from a mile away. It was hidden, buried like his own name, but still there, smothering Fuwaad's smiles and thoughts.

"Resembool lad, land of farming, sheep, and the original Rockbell automail." Colonel Miles said from his place by the door. He smiled as Olivier snorted again. "Don't coddle him Miles."

"Not at all," Miles replied easily, turning back to the boy. "Tell me, Fuwaad, what do you know about farming? Sheep?" Fuwaad's mouth thinned. "Little, sir."

Miles nodded. "Hearing the name did not help you at all, then. And hearing what the town is known for wasn't a big help either. Knowing comes from more than names or dates, Fuwaad. You can know that a sheep is white without knowing that its thick tufts make wool. You can know that farming exists without knowing how to plant seeds."

Fuwaad's careful emotions threatened to burst. "Things I don't want to know!"

"Things you don't need to know," Scar added quietly, "but things that still _are_. You can always learn, even if you do not seek out that learning, being open to it is more valuable than just about anything else."

For a moment, the boy looked startled, and then his eyebrows drew together, and he didn't say anything.

A slight sound made Fuwaad look past him, and Scar turned to see a small Amestrian girl standing in the hall, apparently in awe of Olivier's sword. The General merely raised an eyebrow, and the girl's eyes went to Fuwaad, feeling his stare.

She took in his dark skin, his scar, and his eyes. She took in his height, the clothes he wore, the sword at his hip, and smiled, her bright blue eyes speaking so clearly of their differences, grin full of white teeth reminding Scar of how they were the same. It was not easy, often he was still filled with a righteous anger, but at such times he remembered eyes, smiles, and more. The bits and pieces that made them humans.

Fuwaad blinked at her smile. In Briggs he was used to officers treating him fairly, but out in the open he'd seen more scorn than kindness.

Scar well knew how even the simplest of acts could bring about the biggest of changes.

Fuwaad started to smile back, and the little girl scooted off, skipping happily. The boy settled back, and the remains of his half smile faded, replaced by confusion, and his eyebrows pulled together again.

Scar chose this moment to ask the question. "What do you want?"

He asked the boy that every once in a while, even when he knew Fuwaad had no real answer. Scar asked to get him thinking. Scar knew just how dangerous it was to follow behind mere words or feelings. Sometimes it could not be helped but in the world, in life, thought was needed like air or water. Perhaps the boy would join the military, or become a priest. Perhaps he would become an alchemist, or a doctor; a schoolteacher, a mailman. A million futures awaited him, all possible, all real, as long as he was able to think. Scar knew cruel Ishvalans, kind Amestrians, understanding alchemists and corrupt priests. There was no black and white; he could claim that _they_ had done terrible things, but so had he. Things for which no apology was enough, so he lived day by day. Fuwaad did not yet understand the world, but perhaps he would soon…and hopefully it would be less painful for the boy than it had been for him.

"I want to get off of this train," the boy said after a pause. He glanced quickly at Scar, and then leaned forward again, less irritable now that they were talking, giving him something to do.

As General Armstrong started talking about swordplay and war, and Scar watched the boy's face.

He listened raptly, eyes widening as Olivier told him details he had never imagined. He did not get too close to her, to any of them, and sometimes when she looked away, it was as if Fuwaad had to remind himself that he didn't like her, didn't like any of them.

"Tell me. Have you ever seen someone die?" Scar broke in quietly.

Fuwaad narrowed his eyes. "I have."

General Armstrong snorted, and Miles stilled.

Scar nodded. "Was he old and sick?"

Fuwaad's lips thinned. "Yes."

"I see." Scar stared past the boy, out the window, watching the wind move the trees and grass so gently. It was no wonder Winry Rockbell had grown up in such a place. "Have you ever killed someone?"

"No!" The boy flushed, and looked away, as if he should have said yes. Then to explain himself, he added: "The teachings of Ishvala clearly state-"

"The teachings can be turned around to suit your will however you like." Scar said, still softly, and Fuwaad stiffened, fury flashing in his eyes.

"War. Revenge. Hate. Murder. I've been a part of it all. I could tell you what its like to murder a little girl, just like that one that passed by and smiled at you."

Fuwaad paled, and seemingly in spite of himself he glanced back at where the girl had been standing.

"I could tell you what it is like to kill a monster, one more terrible than in children's tales. I could tell you what it is like to wake and realize all your family, everyone you have ever known and loved, is dead." Scar looked away from the window, right at the boy. Fuwaad stared back, unable to look away.

"I could tell you what it is like to look in the hate-filled eyes of an innocent I made suffer, only to discover that her heart was stronger than mine. I could tell you what it is like to repeat Ishvala's words over and over in your head until you do not recognize other forms of speech, and those words are all that matters." Scar nodded toward the boy. "Ishvala's teachings are forever in my heart, but there is something far more important than those words alone."

"Ishvala's word is _law_," Fuwaad said fiercely.

General Armstrong crossed her arms. "Shut up, idiot."

The boy did not look at her, fists clenching, shoulders shaking, glaring instead at Scar.

Scar once again looked directly at him. "Ishvala's word is truth, Fuwaad, but only if you take her truth into your heart, not just her words."

The boy blinked, and for a moment all the fire left him.

General Armstrong shook her head. "Get as philosophical as you like. When the moment comes its all about who wants to live the most. Those worth being in this world throw away their words and their sympathies the moment it means survival."

Miles smirked. "Survival of the fittest, Fuwaad. It's a law of Ishvala, and the world." As the boy looked up at him, the smirk became a small smile. "Survival doesn't just mean winning a fight; it also means living with the war, surviving all you've done."

_Surviving all you've done._ Yes, that was the way to put it, and how Scar lived each day.

Winry Rockbell-Elric was often at the forefront of his thoughts. He'd known grief of course, the desperate need for revenge. Never until her had he seen it in another's eyes. In that moment, the gun pointing at him, tears streaming from her eyes (so blue, like that of her parents') he was the alchemist, the sinner, evil. The one that had hurt innocents and deserved to be destroyed.

But Winry Elric was far stronger than he. She had not shot him. She had bandaged his wounds. Years had passed since he'd seen her face to face; he'd sent a gift for her wedding, and she had sent him a short letter in thanks. He did not deserve letters of thanks, anymore than he deserved forgiveness at all. She deserved the gifts, the life, the smiles and the happiness. If he lived, perhaps he could make the world more peaceful, and perhaps in some way, that could make up the irreversible hurt he had given her.

Still she was able to speak to him now, directly, honestly, had even smiled once or twice. How or why he could not begin to guess, but then again, he now sat in a train with an Amestrian woman, on his way to talk with men that had destroyed his people, and he did not picture their deaths by his hand. Roy Mustang, the one who had brewed terrible fire like Kimblee, and his wife, Riza Hawkeye, who had stood far above the battlements and killed all caught in her sight. Together, they had a daughter with dark eyes. He could not think it wrong that the child existed, that the two lived, and were happy. That they worked tirelessly each day as he did, not for forgiveness, but to set things as right as possible, to change the future.

Mei had asked him only once about his murder of the Rockbells. She, like Winry, had asked 'why', and still he had had no answer to give. And yet today Mei sent him letters, bursting of her daily activities and struggles. She, too, deserved happiness, and peace.

The daughter of the flames with her dark eyes and tumbling blond hair deserved peace as well. No 'whys' made sense, no true 'whys' existed, but still it _was_. Those faces, young and old, that he had seen, Amestrian, Ishvalan, Xingese, and more, they deserved peace, and progress, slim a possibility as it may have seemed. Soon he would see Winry Elric, Mei Chang, and even his former master, who was arriving in Central as a councilor with the High Priest.

Progress…there he stood today, with a general in the Amestrian military, with changes being put forth, the world rebuilding. There had been a time where he'd known nothing but rage, and yet today he looked out the window, nodded thanks to the conductor, an Amestrian man, and felt something like the beginnings of peace. _Progress, indeed._

He looked at the boy sitting across the way and prayed to Ishvala that Fuwaad would see such progress come alive.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"Are we there yet?"

"Ed." Winry clenched her teeth. "If you ask that one more time, I swear-"

"You'll what?" Ed grinned cheekily at her.

Winry shook her head, smiling. "No way am I telling you. Now you won't even see it coming."

The military escort in the front seat looked slightly bemused by their bickering, and said, "We will be reaching General Mustang's house in a few minutes, Mr. FullMetal Alchemist."

Ed nodded thanks to the man, looking out the window again. Apartments and businesses flew past; people walking their dogs, going to work, selling papers and food all seemed to blend together as the car zipped around another corner. Though used to the constant flow of Central city, sometimes its mere size still surprised him; so many people packed into every space possible. Though he and Winry were currently living in Dublith, they had been considering moving to Central, partly so that Ed wouldn't have to take a train to work.

In many ways, he and Winry were very different. Different taste in furniture, clothing, and this was evidenced in their gifts for Maisa's birthday. Ed had bought her a physics book; though she was only four now, she still understood concepts most never did. Winry, on the other hand, had built her a metal tiger, one that raced around on wheels when it was wound. Tales of Xing apparently enchanted the little girl, tigers especially. He smiled to himself. For all the ways they were different, they also understood each other perfectly, and were more similar than it seemed. Winry could match him word for word in a shouting match, and she could lift heavy things just about as well as he; she could dance while Ed proclaimed two left feet. They both had decent singing voices, and neither of them could make a good cup of coffee. He understood exactly why Winry had made the tiger, and she knew why he'd bought the physics book.

Ed's hand wrapped around hers, and she squeezed his fingers gently.

Married life wasn't always easy. Winry snored and Ed knew his morning breath was powerful enough to kill a homunculus. Winry went batshit for a few days every month, and he constantly blurted things he didn't mean. Her hair clogged the shower drain, and he always left the seat up. They fought, and they fought often. However, they still smiled more.

"Are we there _now_?" he asked, just to piss her off.

The question earned him a growl, and when the car stopped a second later, Winry was stalking off toward the door ahead of him, dress swishing.

For a moment he stopped to admire her as she walked, and then caught up with her, grabbing her hand again. To his slight astonishment, she was giggling. "Oh-" she gulped, cheeks red, eyes dancing. "You just love pissing me off, don't you? And you do it so well!" Her hand tightened in his, and she took a deep breath, trying to get rid of her giggles as they knocked at Mustang's front door.

It sometimes surprised him how he could still find his breath catching when he looked at her- the way her hair touched her face, how a flush spread across her skin, her long fingers, and for a moment he lost track of his surroundings, remembering how they felt. He shook himself out of it- _A four year old's birthday party is not the time to get a hard on, Elric! Do you want to get arrested?_

Former Lt. Riza Hawkeye, now Colonel, opened the door and smiled. Ed could hear the sound of faint music and children's laughter within. "Edward, Winry! I'm glad you could make it."

"It's great to see you, Riza," Winry said, also smiling, as Riza opened the door wider and led them inside. "I hope we didn't miss too much of the party."

Before Maisa had been born, Ed had only been to their house once, not long after the Promised Day, and at the time there had rather been the impression that they were renting it rather than living in it. Now, pictures dotted the hallway, and the plants residing in pots weren't fake ones (though as a result, it seemed that a few of them were wilting).

"Come on. The cake is being frosted right now, and Maisa will be unwrapping her presents soon." Riza took their gifts, and led the way. Sometimes, it was weird seeing her without her uniform on, let alone a gun in her hand. Ed smirked to himself. _She's probably gotten three hidden on her anyway._

"Maisa," Riza called. "Ed and Winry are here!" She walked over to a small table in the corner, setting Ed and Winry's gifts next to the others.

A small group of children and adults met them in the living room, few Ed recognized. Elysia and Gracia Hughes were among them, and Elysia bounded over, entering the gangly stage of the pre-pubescent period. Still, her eyes were bright, her curly hair up in pigtails. "Ed, Winry!" Before he could do more than stare, she had lept at them, and flung her arms around them both.

"I think you've grown at least a foot since we last saw you," Winry said, hugging the girl back just as tightly. "How is your bicycle? Still working okay?"

Elysia grinned. "Only thanks to you, big sister." Her smile turned wicked. "And if I keep growing at that rate, I'll be taller than Ed in no time!"

Ed scowled, mostly out of reflex and tugged on one of Elysia's pigtails. She laughed and tried to dodge away from him, stumbling a little on feet whose size she had not gotten used to.

Gracia joined them, and as she also pulled him in for a hug, Ed was surprised to see a few grey hairs. The image seemed impossible. She pulled back, and the grey hairs vanished. "It's good to see you," she said, giving Winry a hug too. "When will Al get here?"

"In a few hours, hopefully," Ed said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "If not, early tomorrow morning."

"Hello."

Ed turned, and Winry kneeled down to Maisa's level. Gracia bent down and gently brushed the top of the girl's head with her hand, before moving on to talk to one of the other parents.

Maisa had her dad's eyes, and dark blond hair that fell in waves around her. Round cheeks, and a slight lisp, she wore a blue dress, and she gave a slight smile, holding out her own arms for a hug. Winry picked her up, and then promptly turned her upside-down, causing a surprised shriek of laughter to escape the little girl. Giggling, Winry turned her right-side up again, and Maisa, now red-faced, eyes bright, said in her quiet voice, "If all the blood rushes to my head, I'll have a headache the rest of the day."

Winry rolled her eyes, setting the girl down. "You laughed, so don't complain."

Maisa ran to Ed now, and stopped just in front of him. "Did you get me a book?"

Ed grinned. "Yeah. Can't tell you what it is, though."

Maisa's eyebrows pulled together. "Its William Walker Atkinson's newest, isn't it? About thought vibration?"

Ed blinked, and shared a glance with Winry, who covered her mouth to smother her giggles. "You know what they say," she said, and he was distracted for a moment as he took in how god-damn beautiful she was, with her face red, lips pressed together to keep more laughter in. "Great minds think alike!"

"Actually," Maisa said clearly, "I'm of the opinion that great minds think for themselves."

For a moment, all of them stared at her.

"You…" Ed couldn't form a clear sentence, and instead picked her up by her arms and swung her around. "How is it that you're only four and you're smarter than half the people I know?"

"Well," the little girl said matter of factly, brushing her hair out of her face, cheeks still red from laughter, "I suppose it would come from genetics, as my mommy and daddy are both smart, and looking back through their families-"

Ed groaned theatrically, setting her on the ground. "Smarter than me too."

A grin worked its way across Maisa's face. "Oh, well…" She looked past them and smiled wider. "Selim!" She ran between them, stopping just in front of a small boy with black hair, a mark on his forehead, like an eye, clearly visible. Standing behind him was Mrs. Bradley, who smiled fondly at the girl.

_I think my brain short-circuited. _Ed stared, gaping, as Maisa led Selim into the room, telling them where to put the present, a grin to rival hers stretched across the former-homunculus's face.

"It was a bit of a shock to us too," Riza said, walking toward them, shaking her head. "But really, it makes sense. They're both outsiders in a lot of ways." She watched her daughter, surrounded by people that loved her, smiling faintly. "People look at my daughter oddly because of her mind, and they look at Selim oddly because of his forehead." A frown creased her eyebrows.

Winry, who appeared not at all surprised by the events, blew hair out of her face. "Kids can be cruel. It wasn't always easy for us growing up, either." She, too, watched the little girl, how even in her excitement there was a solemn quality to her every action. "I'm glad she has people like Selim and Elysia, who _do_ care so much about her."

Riza smiled wider. "So are we. That is really what got us over our trepidation. They are best friends, and he makes my daughter happy."

"Still," Ed said, "It's sorta…weird."

"A bit, yes," Riza admitted. She smirked. "Truthfully, I'm waiting for the day Selim wishes to date Maisa- Roy's reaction will require an audience."

"So they can laugh- and work as witnesses if he tries to murder him!" Winry laughed.

"Exactly."

As if they had called them, Roy appeared in the kitchen archway, covered in a light dusting of flour and – _oh god I'll never let him live this down-_ wearing an apron. With _frills_. Ed cackled.

Roy scowled. "One word Fullmetal, one word and I _swear_-"

"Swear what?" Ed asked snidely. "Gonna burn some cream puffs?"

Roy's scowl deepened, and he struggled to untie the apron.

"Roy," Riza said patiently as her husband struggled with the knots.

Ed laughed openly, and Winry giggled as all the kids turned to look, Maisa seeming very confused at the sight of her father struggling with the apron.

"Roy-"

Finally, in desperation, he pulled it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor with a muttered 'ha' and an expression appropriate to a great victory.

"Daddy," Maisa said reproachfully from across the room. "You know better than to throw clothes on the floor. Bacteria get on them that way."

"Y-you he-heard her," Ed gasped, struggling to remain upright, laughter shaking his whole body. "C-clean it up!"

Roy took a deep breath, clearly fighting the desire to burn Ed to a crisp. Finally, he said in a carefully controlled voice. "Of course sweetie. Thank you for reminding me."

"You're welcome," Maisa said easily, turning back to her friends.

Roy sighed, but then smiled again as he watched his daughter.

Ed noticed that, though both of them were clearly happy and proud, there was tiredness in their every move. Dark circles were under their eyes, and both seemed somewhat unfocused.

"Getting much sleep?" Ed asked casually, watching as Gracia picked Maisa up, setting the girl on her shoulders.

Roy snorted, and Riza gave a slight smile. "Planning the gathering of the most important political figures in the world takes a toll on your sleep."

"Truthfully," Roy said quietly, "I'm lucky to be here, at my own daughter's birthday." He ran a hand over his face, and Ed noticed that he rather looked as if he'd slept in his clothes. "Security is a large part of it, figuring out how the hell we can get everyone to agree without giving up on what is _right_."

"We heard you on the radio," Winry said. "With Doctor Marcoh." She paused, and then smiled softly. "I hope a lot of people heard, really listened, to what you had to say." She looked down at her hands for a moment. "I'm a rather small part of all this. It amazes me sometimes that I'm even involved…and I wonder how others can be so blind to what I see so clearly. Blinded by hate and fear. I wonder how kind people like those I worked with in Resembool or Rush Valley, or the clinic in Dublith, can be so loving and turn around and say such horrible things about people. And yet…" She watched the children play, watched Maisa inform Selim why the lamps worked, and smiled. "That they can care so much gives me hope, too. I know that its silly, but I can't help but think that if someone like Scar-" Ed noticed that there was no hitch in her voice when she spoke of the man that had murdered her parents- "so filled with rage and hate can turn around and work to benefit the world, then…well perhaps progress can happen."

Roy smiled too. "You may not be a politician Winry, but it so happens that even after all I have seen I also still believe that. Foolish or naive as it may be."

Riza nodded thoughtfully. "Dreams like that is what pushed me to join the military, to follow Roy as I did. And I see examples of its success all around. Foolishness does not come from wishing for a better world, but rather for a perfect world. A perfect world will never exist, but a better one can." Roy slipped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer and kissing her neck. She leaned into the touch, smiling as he pressed his face into her hair. "Well said," he whispered, and her smile grew.

Ed felt Winry take his hand, and he felt her calluses, her strength. She did not have the soft palms of girls that swathed themselves in jewelry and silk, as if the slightest work would crack the hands and make them bleed. Winry's hands were soft in their strength, rough enough to handle his own in turn.

For a while they simply watched the children. Maisa, hair wild as the others chased her, and Selim pulling her out of the way. Elysia seemed to be playing 'monster', and the children shrieked with laughter, even as Maisa called monsters a 'distinct impossibility'.

After a bit, Riza called them over to open presents before the house was destroyed. Ed couldn't help but remember his birthdays and Al's, as well as Winry's. Much was the same; the mother carefully arranging the presents, the children forming a ring around the excited birthday boy or girl.

Maisa opened Ed's present first, "Because I have something to prove." She was like every other child opening wrapping paper; in other words, the wrapping paper died a quick and noble death. Her delighted cry brought an even wider smile to his lips, and it was hard to keep from laughing as she very plainly said "I told you so."

Winry's present, a metal tiger on wheels that moved when you wound it, built by her own hands, was also received delightedly. Maisa immediately bent down, winding it up and letting it fly, watching with big eyes, mouth in a half open smile as it zoomed across the floor.

"Here," Selim said. "Open ours next!" His mother chuckled, and Selim scooted closer to Maisa, watching intently as she tore at the wrapping paper.

In his excited dark eyes, and small round face, there was no trace of King Bradley, no trace of the creature that had been Pride. The small mark on his forehead, like an eye, seemed almost like a bit of paint or a tattoo, and the boy's bangs would likely grow to mostly cover it. A grin stretched across his face as Maisa finished unwrapping, and held up a splendid lamp up for all to see. It was about half a foot long, surrounded by paper cutouts that would make shadows on the wall of horses and stars and birds.

Winry grinned. "Maisa, that lamp will turn as well. The shapes will revolve around so that the lights will be spinning on your wall. It's a fairly simple mechanism, one that still took some time to discover, though not for lack of-" Ed covered her mouth, and Winry glared, stepping back and sticking out her tongue at him.

Before Ed could respond, Selim piped up, "Momma and I got it 'cause you're afraid of the dark, Maisa," and Ed choked. Roy thumped him on the back, the children looking at him in confusion.

"Swallowed- wrong," Ed gasped, pulling himself together. The kids turned back to the presents, while Ed, now breathing normally, raised his eyebrows at Roy, who shrugged in a 'what can you do' sort of way.

The party went on, and Ed found himself not caring that Selim was there, watching and laughing as the children played, teasing Roy about how popular his daughter was with the boys, catching his breath when he looked at Winry. How he felt when he saw her had not changed during their marriage, and looking at Roy and Riza he knew their marriage was the same. That the beauty and laughter, the solace that came from being held by a woman that knew and cared for you and fought for what she wanted with all of her breath, strong in ways that could not be described.

Maisa with her blond hair and dark eyes; Elysia, who looked like her father in ways that always caught him off guard, and he was glad for this moment of reprieve for all of them.

There was still much work to be done, but they had earned their happiness.

* * *

><p>As far as the Pride thing goes, I couldn't resist. :D<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Not too much to say this time around. The plot, as they say, thickens!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Four<span>

The bell chimed over the door, and a few people came in, running their hands over objects on display.

How dearly she wanted to kill them all.

But no. No, not now, not yet. Not until The Victor gave the word, until her King was safely by her side. He should not have been gone from her, but The Queen knew that it had to be done, for the evil ones to be punished. But what was a King without his Queen? Her fingers dug into the countertop, and she made herself relax. _Come home soon._

Home. Where he could hold her, curse the evil ones, tell her how he would rip them apart piece by piece. It always calmed her. If the King was with her, the lights weren't too bright, her stomach wasn't too flat, the darkness did not hold the evil ones with their blue eyes and clawing hands, hands that went everywhere, hands that would break her and use her, hands that shattered her mind and took the child, oh gods, the _child_-

-but no, wait. The King paid for an extra room, always. There she would scatter blankets and toys and wait for the King to come home so they could all play together as a family.

Sometimes the child cried at night, and she rushed to find him, but she never could.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but could you tell me if…"

Stupid, evil, cruel people. Asking her questions as if they cared, as if she cared! As if one day soon she wouldn't rip out their throats.

_Calm voice. Pretend, like with the child._ "Of course." It took all of her self-restraint to not strike the woman, to not take the small pretty child from her side-

_They have taken everything._

But The Victor had a plan- brilliant, perfect, everything she had come to expect from their savior. One day he would rule over them all, and lead them to peace. With his guidance, and her King at her side, they would destroy the evil ones, the betrayers. Her face twitched out of place, and she smoothed it back.

_They will pay._

The Wise One, across the way, shot her a look, and she smoothed her expression again. The Wise One was a valuable asset to bringing justice, to making sure they suffered. The Wise One had come up with all of the elements they had needed, and it was thanks to her that within days there would be that suffering.

They would twitch and burn, blood dropping from their pores, breath rattling. She smiled as she imagined their cries, how their loved ones would plead at their sides, as she had pleaded all those years ago. And, just as with her, no one would come to save them.

The stupid woman paying her smiled back, obviously thinking that she was being friendly. The Queen ignored her. In the end she'd cut the evil ones porcelain throats and strap fire to their chests and watch them blow. It was only a matter of time, but as the minutes and hours dragged on it was hard to not run after them, to not shout and scream and ruin everything.

_Kill them. Kill them._

For a moment, her King was with her, stroking her hair and promising that they would die, that he would get them, that they would stand together and destroy the evil for what they had done. During those first few days after the monsters had found her and ripped something from her, she had lost it. Only his voice, only the voice of her King and his promises had revived her.

Together. A family. The evil monsters would pay and then the dark would stop being scary and their child would be alive and smile at them and she could hold it to her breast like it all was meant to be.

The Victor had called her only the day before. He'd communicated briefly with her King, but little could be said about him. Only that a letter would be arriving soon, and she waited, fingernails clawing at the back of her hands until blood began to flow.

"Stop that," The Wise One hissed. No one else was around. The older woman dragged her toward the bathroom, sticking her bleeding hands underneath the cool water, and the Queen hissed at the contact.

"Be quiet! We must stay quiet and be everything the evil ones wish us to be until the time is right. We need to get the first of the messages ready, and the details should be in the letter. Calm down or people will suspect something!"

The water no longer ran with blood, and The Queen nodded silently. The Wise One's lips pursed and she walked away without another word.

The Queen watched her back, feeling the stinging in her hands again. _After we kill the betrayers, I may kill you too._ It hardly mattered. Aside from the Victor and her King, none of the others would be important after the evil ones had been destroyed.

The bell dinged above the door again, and she rushed out, fighting the urge to tear the letter out of the mailman's hands. She had to be patient. "Thank you, sir," she said, smiling as she had before, when she had been whole.

He smiled back, seeming emboldened by her attitude, but she ignored him, opening the envelope in her shaking hands, running into the bathroom again.

_My dearest Queen, _it began.

_I met with our Star a few days ago, and have seen him among the ambassadors. It pains me that I cannot see you when we are so close, but soon a meeting can be arranged. We need printing stamps for our first message, so please make sure that is ready in two days time. Being around these evil ones has filled me with despair, but knowing you will see this letter gives me comfort again. Stay safe, my heart. I will see you as soon as I can._

_-Your King_

The Queen could hear more evil people outside, but she stayed where she was, letting the Wise One deal with them. The words from her King would have to do until she saw him in person. Slowly, she folded up the letter, and slid it in her shirt, so that it was pressed against her heart.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

The street bustled with people, laughing and taking, looking excitedly at window displays.

"It really is wonderful to see you again- and to get a day off before everything happens!" Winry gave Mei a one-armed hug that the younger girl returned gladly.

"I think a day of reprieve was needed for everyone in preparation of the long days ahead," Riza added thoughtfully.

Mei made a face. "True, but we're still on a time limit here. I have to get back to Jia fairly quickly. Not that I don't trust the other guards, but…" she shrugged as her sentence trailed off.

Riza nodded her understanding. "It makes you feel better when it's you, doesn't it? Even if you know it may not make a difference."

Winry hesitated. "Jia seems nice, Mei. If… unhappy." She smiled slightly. "The only time I saw her smile was when Ed started talking about Alchemy and when you or Al were nearby."

Mei nodded, and Riza watched the younger woman closely. "We love her," Mei said simply. "More than her parents ever did. More than Ling ever will. She wants to be an alchemist…to explore the world and love and live…but she never will." Mei looked past them for a moment, past the shops, beyond the world in front of her. "If I could do it, honestly do it without destroying my nation, I would bring her out of my country. Perhaps being around you Amestrians has corrupted my mind. I love Xing. It is my home. But I do not understand its traditions the way I used to…" She took a deep breath. "Xing is a beautiful country. I love it, but…"

"No country is perfect," Riza said softly, as they stopped in front of a bakery, watching the people inside look at loaves of bread and fresh cookies. "Amestris is far from it. You can love your country and hate some of its practices. There is always room for improvement, and progress can happen- as evidenced by all the changes occurring now."

Mei smiled back at Riza. They had never known each other that well, but still, fighting monsters had a way of bringing people together.

"You want what is best for Jia," Winry agreed, taking her soon-to-be sister-in-law's hand. "You love her. You want her to be free and happy. You want your country to thrive. There is nothing wrong with any of those desires, Mei. I just wish…" She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. "Foolish as it sounds, I wish that I could fix things easily, like in those old fairy tales, you know? With a wave of my magic wand!" She made circle with her arm, as if casting a spell, and laughed.

Mei looked at her kindly, and Winry reflected that she had changed from the little girl she had been, years ago. "Such thoughts are no more foolish than my own, sister."

Riza smiled faintly at them both. "I know the best of fools. Foolish ideals are the root of change. And then they do not seem so foolish."

For a moment they scooted closer together, and Winry was again reminded of the bond between them, bonds not broken by time or distance. "Well, we'd best keep looking, then, if we expect to find something in time."

That night, keeping with the mood of repose, there would be a party, functioning not only for personal comfort. It would also allow the leaders and members of trade to know each other on a more personal level, which would hopefully help during the meetings the next few days. Another social gathering would take place in three days, and Winry, Riza, and Mei needed dresses for that night.

Seeing Al again made Winry recall when he and Ed had been traveling together. The relief was very much the same. He was her brother in all but blood, and having him with her again brought her comfort and joy.

Seeing Ling had been a little different. He'd been Emperor for nearly six years now, and yet seeing him in his royal garb was something she was not used to. He had been more regal as well, though she could tell from the glint in his eyes that it was very hard to resist playfully flirting with her, and Winry missed the days that he could have spoken openly. Things were changing for sure, but in the meantime those she loved suffered to bring about those changes.

Jia truly had seemed nice; still in the awkward teenage years, short and freckled, with cropped hair and quite uncomfortable looking in her expensive clothes. She'd been a little unsure of Winry's offered hand, clearly not used to the custom, and Winry had been very much aware of the men surrounding her, with _very_ large swords.

"Well, did you two have anything in mind for where you wanted to go?" Winry asked, stopping briefly in front of a toy shop, smiling at a miniature tool box.

"Not at all," Mei admitted. "Mrs. Mustang, do you- ow!" Mei stopped suddenly, wincing, a clatter following her words. She turned to face a middle aged woman who gasped. "Oh no, I am so sorry!" She had a heavy Xingese accent, and her black hair was piled on top of her head, bright green earrings dangling from her ears, a slight scar on her cheek. Spilled on the ground in front of her were an assortment of objects; measuring tape, pins, fabrics, and scissors.

The woman bowed hurriedly, getting down on her knees to pick everything up. "I do apologize, ma'am, I am so sorry-"

"Not at all," Mei said, smiling. She bent down along with Winry and Riza to help her pick everything up. "You were carrying quite a load. How long have you been living here?"

"Only a few years, I-" The woman stopped suddenly, eyeing all three of them closely, and then she gasped again, this time a mixture of embarrassment and delight. "Mei Chang! Major Mustang and Winry Elric! I- I am so sorry! I didn't prick you with a needle did I?" She asked, biting her lip, leaning a little toward Mei in concern.

"Oh, it's no bother," Mei said easily, shaking out her hand, and bowing to the woman in return, before handing her the measuring tape.

The woman answered in Xingese, and Mei nodded, speaking back with her in the same language.

Winry looked back at Riza, and saw the same look of bafflement on the other woman's face. "I only know a few words," She explained to Winry, frowning as if trying to concentrate on the couple that would make sense.

"Oh, I beg pardon," The Xingese woman said, turning back to them now. "It has been a while since I have spoken with someone from my land." She smiled. "I took advantage of the chance."

Winry smiled easily. "It's no problem, ma'am." She felt the fabric in her hands, and then held it out. "This is wonderful fabric."

The woman's eyes lit. "Thank you! Fabrics, I often find, almost have a language of their own, with how they can communicate feelings through touch and sight. I was on my way back to my shop now, and I am afraid I was not watching where I was going. My name is Hui-ying by the way." She bowed again.

"Pleased to meet you," Riza said, offering her hand. Slightly surprised, Hui-ying took it, smiling ruefully.

Hui-ying hesitated as she shook Winry's hand next. "I don't suppose- well, please don't feel obligated, but I would be very honored if you would venture into my shop, and see what I have. I don't know if you are in need of dresses or other clothes," she added quickly, "So please do not come unless you have need-"

Winry glanced at the others. Mei smiled, and Riza shrugged, saying, "As it so happens, we have great need. Please lead the way."

Beaming, Hui-ying led them along.

Her shop turned out to be small, but comfortable, with a few mannequins in the window, and several displays of the same fabric Winry had been holding. 'Thread of the Dragon' was written in blue letters on the top, and within they could see another woman with braided black hair speaking with a customer.

Hui-ying held open the door for them, a bell sounding, bowing slightly as they walked through.

Inside, there were several chairs and dressing screens, measuring tape hanging off of the top, mirrors on the wall inside them, just visible over the top of the cloth. A counter was off to one side, and in different parts of the room were several fabrics, draped over poles, spread across a table, and hanging with the measuring tape.

"Please," Hui-ying said, a few strands of hair curling by her face, spreading her arm out toward the store. "Look as long as you wish."

Winry found herself feeling slightly lost among all the fabric. All of them were lovely in feel and color, but she'd never designed a dress, and had no idea how to describe her thoughts. Mei seemed to be going more toward what she thought looked pretty or felt nice, and Riza seemed to be doing much the same thing.

The other woman in the store was beautiful. Her long dark hair braided on top of her head, eyes startlingly clear; she stared at her from the corners of her eyes. Winry turned toward her, and the woman did not look away. Her lips moved into something like a smile, and Winry hesitantly smiled back, before facing the racks of fabric again.

Her eye caught on a smooth and shining red fabric, and Winry ran her hands over it, smiling. Tiny beads were embedded at the top, and they shimmered in the light. From the corner of her eye she saw Riza speaking to Hui-ying, velvet-like blue fabric strung over her arm. Hui-ying smiled, and nodded, motioning toward an open changing screen.

"Lovely, isn't it?" The other woman said softly, and she glanced at Winry, Riza, and Mei as she spoke.

"Oh! Yes," Winry said, lifting the fabric she was holding again. The woman smiled slowly, not showing her teeth. She had a heavy Drachman accent, and just peeking out from her high-collared dress was a scar.

"Rayna!" Hui-ying called, and the woman turned her head, still moving slowly. "Please get those ribbons from the back."

Without a word, Rayna turned and left, glancing back, still smiling as if at some private joke.

Hui-ying smiled at Riza as she draped the fabric around her middle, her other clothes on underneath. Mei walked over; carrying a shiny purple fabric, raising an eyebrow in the direction Rayna had gone.

"Please don't mind her," Hui-ying said quietly, and they looked at her. "She has no family, and is in many ways a stranger here. To see you three, so well known, has her stunned." She smiled, suddenly, "I'm almost done here, Mrs. Mustang, and then I can help the both of you. I just- sorry!" Hui-ying bit hr lip, pulling back the needle as Riza waved away her apology.

"I've had worse hurts than a pinprick," she said, smiling, and as Hui-ying finished, Winry was reminded of Riza's deadliness, something easily forgotten among the silk. There had been times when she had envied Riza- powerful, strong, deadly, and able to stand at the side of the people she loved and protect them.

Winry did not have the skill to protect Ed or Al; _but_, she thought, smiling, _if they fall, I do have the power to build them back up. _She sometimes still envied Riza or Mei, with their lethal accuracy, but she wasn't a girl anymore, wishing to be a part of the life of the two boys she loved most. She knew her worth not only for them, but for the others that depended upon her care, and most importantly for herself. She knew Riza and Mei were the same- they knew their own worth.

"I do apologize," Hui-ying said anxiously after she also poked Mei. "I may be a seamstress, but not even my own fingers are safe from my- ow!"

Mei and Riza mostly let Hui-ying pick a design, commenting if they disagreed. Rayna, organizing fabrics, continued to watch them.

As Winry stood in front of the mirror, she smiled, hoping it wouldn't escape her oblivious husband's notice that she would be wearing his favorite color. Though she also felt a needle prick her, it was obvious Hui-ying knew what she was doing.

"No bow," the older woman muttered, drawing back and nodding, wincing as a pin caught on her sleeve stuck her thumb.

"There is much excitement in the streets," she said suddenly to them all, smiling. "It sounds as if things will soon change."

"They must," Riza said simply from the chair she was sitting in, money ready in her hand when Hui-ying was done.

Tonight was the first party; a social gathering that would allow the different traders and politicians to get to know each other on a more personal level ("The bastard just wants to show off the expensive wine he bought," Ed had commented snidely.) Tomorrow the meetings would begin, and Winry would present her automail the day after. There was no set date for when everything would end, thought at least a week was predicted.

In truth, Winry knew very little about the other world leaders. With Ling, she had seen other ambassadors and advisors. Ed said that the Cretian Queen Aleka was good humored, her husband even more so. The Areugan King was reputed to be stubborn and set in his ways, but also tough and honest. The Drachman King was new; his father had died a few months previously, and he had inherited the throne. The Ishvalan High Priest Majid would be attending, along with others of his counsel. All the leaders were bringing at least two ambassadors with them. Delegates for trade were traveling from all over as well. Winry smirked, remembering Paninya calling to tell her that Mr. Domonic had been asked to be a representative, only to slam the door in the military's face. Izumi Curtis's refusal, Ed had reported with glee, had had something to do with thrown knives.

Winry's attention was brought back to Hui-ying as she smiled. "I hope I live to see changes come to be. Mrs. Elric, I'm done." She pulled away the last of the fabric, letting it swish to the floor. "The dresses will be ready in two day's time," She said, bowing to them again. Seeing their surprise, her smile grew. "Many employees are off today. They will help me when they return."

They left the fabrics with her, putting their money on the counter. She hesitated before turning away. "Thank you for coming here. It means more to me than you could know." With that, she smiled, and vanished into the back room, leaving Winry, Riza, and Mei to show themselves out.


	5. Chapter 5

I kind of picture the singer here to look like Adele, and the song she's singing is actually Adele's "Chasing Pavements". She just has the kind of soulful, jazzy voice that I think would fit the time period.

Translations: "Mi firello" means "my flower"

"Vanni" translates to mean "graceful"

"Aleka" means "defender or helper"

"Demons" means "of the people"

"Ciro" (pronounced Cy-ro) is from "cyrus"

And I forgot to mention it earlier, but "Jia" means "outstanding person/good".

Disclaimer: FMA is not mine in any way, shape, or form.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Five<span>

"Hold still, Lady Jia."

"I'm sorry." Jia took a deep breath and let the women finish their work. She had never gotten used to not dressing herself. _I suppose I have all of my life to get used to it._

The mirror was tilted down slightly, so that she, and the serving women, could see her clearly.

She supposed that she looked pretty, but to her the red silk took all the color from her body, leaving her as staring eyes without a face. Blank eyes looking right ahead while colorless lips strained in a smile. Patterns of small butterflies dotted the cheongsam, and she smoothed her hands over the wrinkles of fabric at her hips as the serving women finished brushing out her hair. It was still short, a fact that seemed to gain slight disapproval from the other people, but, after all, her hair would eventually grow, so it was a small break from tradition that they could deal with. The cheongsam hugged her hips, bringing forth curves that hardly existed without it, a slit up the side revealing some of her leg. The dress was lovely, truly, and she had thanked Mei many times over for helping her to pick it out, but she could not move as much as she would have liked. The high collar looked odd against her angular cheeks, and she was sure the color brought out her freckles even more.

If she tried to fight in it, the seams would split. For a moment, a true smile flitted across her face at the shocked looks she would be getting, and the good laugh Al and Mei would have with her about it later. Emperor Ling, she knew, would also be hard pressed to conceal his own laughter.

A frown creased her face again. _Snap out of it. You've known that this would happen for a long time. You're not being given a death sentence._ Ling was kind, good-humored (more so when he was not surrounded by his council) and even handsome.

He didn't love her any more than she loved him. In fact, she was quite certain he didn't much have an opinion for her either way. Oh, she was sure that he found her nice and intelligent enough for his taste, but in some ways it was like he avoided her. He hardly touched her, even just her arm, and he never quite focused on her face when she spoke. The only times he seemed at all interested in her was, oddly enough, when she was sparring with Mei or Al.

Truthfully, it didn't matter what he felt about her, and in many ways she felt the same about him. He would make her smile, she knew. She knew that they would become friends. That he would love the children they had together.

Her parents had been honored above all else when the decision had been made for her. They had talked of nothing else, telling her how to look her best and never speak too loudly and to practice alchemy only as a kind of parlor trick; a quirk, to endear the people to her.

They did not hug her, or kiss her, or wait in her room while she cried. They told her to not be so silly, to be quiet. Her family had not wished for her happiness.

_My family is here, _she told herself firmly. She thought of Al and Mei in their room, laughing and getting dressed, of how they would wait for her. She thought of Ed, and his wife, how easy it was to imagine spending time with them, and she forced herself to look at the door she could barely see in the mirror, her way out toward those she loved.

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

Lanterns were strung across the buildings and above their heads, all painted with the symbols of various countries. Tables had been set out on the concrete and grass; some under white tents, others uncovered. Musicians stood on the steps of the government building (rebuilt after all the chaos of the Promised Day; the new library was just next to it). Banners hung behind the musicians, a makeshift stage built for the singer- a plump woman with bright eyes- to walk out further.

Flowers were woven near the lanterns, and set in pots all around them. The serenity was slightly broken by the many guards patrolling at the gates and visible on the roof. A few nodded or smiled at her as she passed, but most looked serious.

Al was next to her, hand on her arm, his eyes bright as he nodded toward people that passed, whispering their names to her.

"…That's the Cretian Queen's husband- have you met her yet? Anyway, that's Aleka's husband, Demos," he said, nodding toward a grinning man juggling fruit for a group of small children, Maisa among them. "You'd never know he's blind in one eye with how he does things like that…oh, that's Greg Rames- Lt. Col. very good at persuading people to do the craziest things when drunk…"

"Oh?" Winry asked slyly, "Are you going to blame Mr. Rames on your attempts at being a drunken knight? I don't think what Mei had in mind all those years ago of a prince charming was for you to attempt to joust with a spoon."

Al made a face, "And then to fall over on her when I tried to propose- I know!"

Winry stumbled for a moment, and then straightened, shaking her head to clear it.

"You alright?" Al frowned at her, and Winry smiled, nodding. "Just sleepy. It will be an early night for me."

Al grinned. "Ed won't like that."

Winry chuckled. "I don't like to say it, but it's true! I take it then that your night will last well into the morning?" She elbowed him in the ribs. "If you're anything like you're brother-"

"Then you should buy some earplugs," Al said blandly, blushing just a little.

Winry looked at him, and was hit, as always, with the knowledge that Al was _there_ with her, breathing and laughing, speaking of sex he had with the woman he loved. He was a man, her little brother, alive and well and next to her. She hugged him suddenly. "I missed you, Al."

He was surprised for a moment, and then hugged her back just as tightly. "I missed you too."

They pulled apart and walked on. Winry spotted her husband and waved, gesturing that she brought him back a drink. He was standing with Roy and two people she did not recognize. "Is it still weird for you to see him in uniform?"

Al snorted. "I'm not used to seeing _me_ in uniform."

Despite it all, Ed looked, quite frankly, sexy. His hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and he jogged toward her, smiling the smile that always made her smile, and he gave her a quick kiss, lightly punching Al's shoulder. "Took your time in the bathroom getting pretty. You take more time than Winry does."

Winry rolled her eyes and Al laughed. Winry saw Ed's smile soften, and she knew that he was also thinking of how grateful he was for every moment Al could laugh.

They walked back where Ed had come from, and Winry got a closer look at the two unfamiliar people. The woman was small and petit, with long brown hair that fell to her waist in gentle curls. She was beautiful in an innocent, delicate way, and when she smiled, her dark eyes brightened. The man next to her held her hand even as they stood there, and immediately glanced at her as she turned. He was tall, with long brown hair tied back, grey at his temples, and equally dark eyes.

"…Vanni, I tell you, that boy in needs to be a little shaken up." The man looked toward them as they approached, shaking his head. "Our cook Claudio is brilliant, but also seems convinced that he is a Prince!" The very notion of a mere cook being a prince seemed to both irritate and amuse the man. He had a thick, flowing accent, and held out his hand almost as if expecting her to kiss his rings.

She shook his hand instead, and he seemed hardly bothered, kissing her hand instead. "Elric!" He looked Ed up and down. "However did you ensnare such a treasure? Surely your manners turned her away!"

"Ciro, we know the only reason Vanni puts up with you is because you are rich, so what right do you have to say anything?" Al teased.

Ciro drew himself up proudly while Vanni giggled. Before he could respond, an Amestrian man stopped by, offering him a drink. Ciro eyed the drinks- and the man- with distrust before curtly shaking his head. "Ah, another man of class to speak with! Nicolai, have you met the Flame Alchmist, General Mustang? Or young Fullmetal Alchemist or Ambassador Elric?"

A much younger man walked toward them, with short black hair and pale eyes. He was hardly taller than Ed, and wore little of the adornments that Ciros- and many others- seemed to take pride in. "Not officially, I am afraid." He extended his hand toward Roy, smiling. He had a Drachman accent and also bowed politely to Winry's hand after shaking Ed's.

Nicolai gestured toward himself. "I seem to be a little underdressed. My brief time ruling has not taught me everything yet, I'm afraid."

Ciros waved a hand as if to excuse him. "You have good blood; soon you will pick everything up." Vanni smiled at him, and said "It took me a long time to adjust to being Ciros's wife, so I think you have some room to learn yet. It has only been six months after all. And," she added, "There is nothing wrong with dressing in a simpler manner." She gave a very pointed look to her husband, who respond with a sort of 'who, me?' shrug. Her voice, whether teasing or not, was very soft.

Nicolai smiled at her, giving a slight bow. "It is an honor to meet all of you. I hope that the coming days bring forward change we can all enjoy."

Winry smiled, but was hardly paying attention to his words. She looked at the faces of those around her, and wondered who was being genuine, and who was not. There was a sense of falsehood in the air, as if even the pleasantries were falling flat.

"Border wars, distrust, all of that will take some time to erase from our thoughts," Al said, and everyone looked toward him. "On all sides. We are not innocent."

Ciros looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. "You are wise beyond your years, Ambassador Elric. Betrayals and broken promises are not easily forgotten. I am furious with these skirmishes," he said, and his hand tightened in his wife's.

"And it is our job to convince you that we are also filled with fury over the wrongdoing," Roy said. "Not with our words. Words do not mean anything if they are not followed by action."

Nicolai said nothing, taking a sip of his drink, watching them as if fascinated.

"Action that will lead to further mistrust, and second-guessing?" Ciros looked Roy in the eye. "We will not trust you until you act in a way we find worthy, and until then all of your actions will be questioned."

"Go ahead and question," Ed broke in, smirking. "We'll be ready with the answers. You can believe them or not, but they will still be."

"Still," Nicolai said slowly, as if unsure of his words, "There are people you can blame. It is a comfort to do so. Someone must pay for the crimes." He seemed unwilling to look at Roy, as if embarrassed, but Roy shrugged, hardly bothered.

"You could say I deserve to die for my crimes, and I could not argue with you. But soldiers all- on every side, in every war, commit horrors and acts that we try not to think about. Young boys were killed by Ishvalans, and so I killed people too. Killing does not end anything, and it does not bring satisfaction." He seemed for a moment lost in thought.

Winry hesitated, and then spoke as well. "It is as foolish as wishing the child of a bad parent to suffer because of their parent's actions. If we were to tally up all the wrongs and betrayals and misunderstandings, we would have few to point to. Everything sort of loops back together, whether we like it or not. If you cannot blame one without blaming all, then…"

"You'll never learn," Ed and Al said together, and she smiled at them, marveling at how sometimes all of their thoughts seemed to be shared.

Ciros watched them for a moment and Vanni spoke before he could. "No simple answer, is there? Everyone has a right. I suppose you will be deciding in the coming days which right to follow, and which you all can live with. The right that will help things to change."

Ciros looked at her as if proud, and then nodded. "Forgive me. The coming days are for discussion of politics. Today, I am a rich man, and nothing else." He nodded toward all of them, and Winry could see respect- perhaps grudging liking- in his eyes as he did so. "Vanni, I see the President over with Aleka. Shall we?" He gestured over to where President Grumman was speaking to a small, curvaceous woman with long black hair. She glanced over as if hearing her name, and waved to Ed, who waved back.

"How well do you know her?" Winry asked Ed and Al, who shrugged. "Well enough." Ed grinned. "You'll like her Winry. She's a lot like our teacher, though quite a bit calmer."

"Most of the time," Al interjected with a shudder.

"Women with fiery tempers are the best joys in life!" Roy gave a deep sigh, smirking. "Judging by your respective ladies, you agree?" He watched his wife, standing with their daughter, smiling as the man performing tricks- Demos (it was hard for Winry to picture the husband of a Queen pulling cens from children's ears, but there he was).

A new tune issued from the musicians, and Winry found herself being pulled into a dance. The singer's voice was deep, and flowed over the notes like water. Ed wasn't a perfect dancer, and she knew it was hardly his favorite task, but as he pulled her close she also knew that he wanted these few moments alone with her.

She watched Al and Roy talk for a few minutes, faces going from amused to grim and back, and watched at Al left, heading directly for Mei, who was standing next to Ling and Jia. Mei put her hands on her hips and waved her finger at Al in mock disapproval. Her face gave way into a smile as he kissed her on the forehead and lips, and then bowed exaggeratedly to Ling. Winry saw Ling's lips twitch, and knew he was fighting laughter. He caught her eye and nodded, giving a slight smile, and she smiled back.

Winry wondered where Ran Fan was, among all the guards and the dark corners that the lanterns couldn't touch. She saw Ling's eyes flick upward, and knew that he must have seen her, if only for a moment.

"_I build myself up,"_ the woman on stage resonated, closing her eyes. _"And fly around in circles, waiting as my heart drops, and my back begins to tingle…"_

"I love you," Winry said suddenly, surprising herself. They said it often enough, but there were some moments that it seemed to strike her all over again.

Ed smiled softly. "Love you too."

Over his shoulder, she could see Aleka being led around by Ciros, while Vanni was dancing with Grumman. Nicolai had wandered over to Demos and Riza, and was speaking to Maisa, a delighted smile on his face.

As the song ended, more people could be seen as the crowd moved; those who had been dancing rejoined their friends and those that had been waiting for a new song took up the floor. Across the way, Winry saw Col. Armstrong (and, admittedly, still heard his booming voice even over all the noise) addressing his less-than-enthused sister. Behind her stood Col. Miles, a young boy Winry didn't know, and Scar.

Ed saw was she was looking at, and his hand tightened in hers. She squeezed it back, and took a deep breath, before walking toward them.

Scar caught her eye, and Winry felt herself smile. It was strange, truthfully, to smile at the man that murdered her parents. No, more than strange; sometimes it woke her at night, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Olivia Armstrong, who had only met Winry once and gave the impression that she was constantly sizing one up, turned away from her brother without a word and shook Winry's hand, smirking a little bit. "When you are ready for a real man instead of that shrimp, let me know and I'll let you stay at Briggs for a while."

Winry laughed while Ed scowled, and then quailed under Olivia's glare.

"Dear sister!" Alex Armstrong said, shocked. "Young Edward is a worthy youth, though it is true that there is always room for improvement. Perhaps another look at the Armstrong family physique will-"

Several voices assured him that it was not necessary, and that he might shock some to a faint.

Col. Miles shook his head slightly, smiling, and then shook Winry's hand as well. "Always a pleasure, Ed, Al, Winry. General Mustang, I see you got rid of that ridiculous mustache." Winry turned, surprised, to see Roy coming up behind them.

Roy made a face. "One bad decision and I hear about it for years afterward."

"Well," Came a small voice primly behind them. "It was a bad mustache, daddy." Roy turned and picked up his daughter, her dark pink dress swishing, matching ribbon pulling back her hair. Riza, who had been standing behind her, Demos at her other side, kissed her husband lightly, and thanked Demos for entertaining her daughter. "Even when she asked the physics questions!"

Scar came forward now, and Winry hesitated before offering her hand to shake. She hadn't forgiven him; she never would. But in many ways she had moved on, and continued to do so each day. Scar, seeming surprised as always by her acknowledgement of him, shook her hand firmly and then gestured toward the boy on his left.

"This is Fuwaad. He has been staying with us for some time, learning from us." Winry raised her eyebrows a little, surprised. But then she smiled brightly, taking the boy's hand in her own. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Winry Elric." The boy nodded, but his hand in hers was tenuous, and the moment she let go he looked profoundly relieved.

"What sort of things are you learning? How to survive in bitter cold?" She made a face. "When I was up in Briggs the first time, I didn't have all my winter wear with me, and was twitching every second trying to get warm." The ghost of a smile filled Fuwaad's face.

"Fuwaad has a particular talent for medicine, actually," Scar said quietly, and the boy's face tightened, as if this fact was embarrassing.

Miles interjected as General Armstrong talked with Riza, "We'd sort of been wondering, actually, if you would mind Fuwaad watching you work while you're up here? Though automail and medicine don't always go hand in hand, it could be a valuable experience for him. If he wants to, of course."

Winry smiled again, looking toward Fuwaad. At the words, he had, unwillingly it seemed, lit up, and she nodded. "He's welcome to come by. In a few days I am going to be working on the automail of a friend of mine. I can let you know the dates, and if you are interested, please come."

The boy looked hopeful for a moment, and a slight smile grew before a magnified sound of a throat clearing echoed in their ears. Grumman stood on the stage now, the singer and musicians talking quietly behind him. "Welcome! Tonight we are surrounded by our peers, and our leaders. This is a difference often remarked upon, or even built up. Yet," he smiled, "You will find that we all eat in the same manner. Our dinner is ready, so please find your seats, and enjoy the rest of the evening."

Chatter broke out, and people mingled with their friends and family, walking toward respective tables. Ed sighed, grinning ruefully. "Time for more politically correct speech. Come on." They followed behind Roy, his daughter between him and Riza, holding both of their hands. Nicolai was next to them, and as the approached the table immediately drew out a chair for Maisa. Almost as an afterthought, he did the same for Riza.

Ed jumped as a large hand fell on his shoulder. "Edward Elric! We did not greet properly before. It is a wondrous event that I am able to see you again!"

"You too, Colonel…" Ed said weakly, struggling to remain upright as Alex Armstrong's hand pushed down on him.

"And the ever lovely Winry Rockbell-Elric!" To Ed's relief, Armstrong removed his hand and bowed to Winry. "Where is your brother? I have been wanting to give him my greetings as well!"

Ed muttered something about if he was being smart, Al was far away. Out of the corner of her eye, Winry could have sworn that she saw Al skirt behind a pillar as Armstrong looked his way. She caught Mei's eye, and the younger woman grinned, shaking her head before dragging her fiancé forward.

"Alphonse Elric!" Col. Armstrong boomed, sprinting toward him, many of the leaders that were less than familiar with his attitude stared in slight alarm as Al was crushed in a hug.

"I want my fiancé in good working order, Colonel!' Mei warned, laughing. Next to her, Jia was red faced, her lips pressed together to keep herself from laughing.

"It's very lovely to see you again as well," Ling said hurriedly to Alex Armstrong, "But I'm afraid my guard may take your welcome as an assault." He grinned for the first time since Winry had seen him- honestly grinned.

"Why, Emperor Ling, feeling faint are you?" Ed called as they approached. "Haven't eaten in the last fifteen minutes?"

Ling chuckled as they drew nearer, seeming hardly bothered by the guards that immediately loomed directly behind his chair when he sat down. "For your information it has been at _least_ a half hour." Jia, though she glanced at them, did not seem particularly bothered either.

Ed laughed and Al teased him some more as they all sat down.

"I'm starting to believe that one must pay a fee to stand near the famous Elric brothers," a deep voice said behind them, and Winry turned to see Aleka, the curvaceous Cretian Queen, her husband Demos standing a good six inches taller than her. Both were smiling; Aleka's was a small smirk, Demos's an outright grin. They were dressed as opposites as well; Demos all in dark colors, a silver stud glinting in his ear, while Aleka wore a lovely white dress that trailed slightly on the ground behind her. She shook hands with both boys, nodding thanks as Al complimented her on her dress. Her blue-green eyes met Winry, and her smile grew. "Winry, yes? The brothers have told me much about you."

Winry smiled back. "Likewise. It's nice to meet you." Aleka turned toward Al again, and Winry noticed that a sword was clipped to her side as well. Demos shook hands with Ed, and then, with a twirl of his fingers, produced a flower for Winry.

Ed shook his head. "We all know you were hiding it up your sleeves. Only kids believe in that crap, Demos."

Demos pretended to look offended. "My skills are a secret that can never be predicted."

"That's because you tend to use flatter objects," Al said dryly.

"I don't believe it," Aleka eyed them both critically, sitting down on Winry's other side. "You've both managed to clean yourselves up."

"These two," Demos said, sitting beside his wife and nudging Ed in the shoulder, "Came to our court looking like a pair of weeds; covered in dirt and brambles. The gardener had a conniption until they started moving."

Winry laughed as Ed swore that they had run into a crazy bird that had chased them for two miles. Al rolled his eyes from his place next to Ed. "Please, brother. It was only half a mile."

Winry laughed, and Mei did as well. "I remember your letter about that. Weren't you shoved into the fountain in order to confirm your identity?"

Al looked at her sourly, and she smiled with equal amounts of sweetness while Jia watched them, a small smile on her face.

Ling caught her eye, and offered her a smile again as food was piled on his plate. _Looks like Roy informed the cooks of Ling's appetite,_ Winry thought with a grin. Once again she had an echo of a memory; Ling surrounded by dirty dishes, or having climbed through a window, his clothes wrinkled, sword ready at his side.

President Grumman joined them at the table, standing at its head for a moment before sitting down, leaning slightly forward to hear Aleka better. Next to Grumman was Roy, Maisa, and Riza, Nicolai following her, Alex Armstrong, and then Demos. Across the table sat Olivia, Miles, Scar, and Fuwaad, along with Major Havoc and a woman named Rebecca that Winry had met only once before. Havoc had a slightly glazed look on his face, and Rebecca was whispering in his ear, grinning slightly. Beside them were many that Winry did not know well, including the Ishvalan High Priest Majid and his counsel. One of the men, an Ishvalan with many thin scars all over his face, glanced at her and then away. Majid was talking with Al now, and in some ways he reminded her of the late President. Though at least sixty, he still had a strong look about him, and seemed to have a lot of energy. He smiled at her, and said, "I hear you're the young lady that makes automail. With who your parents were, it is hardly surprising."

Winry hesitated. "Did you know them?"

Majid shook his head, and smiled kindly. "No. But there was not an Ishvalan that didn't know of them. My sister was healed directly at their hands."

For a moment, Winry wasn't quite sure what to say. "I'm glad. I hear of all the people they were able to help and…even though they are gone, it still fills me with pride…"

Majid's kind smile grew. "Those we love do not truly leave us. This, I think, is a belief both of our peoples have in common."

A bald, middle-aged Ishvalan man approached her, and smiled, black mustache twitching. "My name is Adeel, Mrs. Elric. I have heard much about you." He turned to Scar, and his smile grew. "Good to see you again."

Scar inclined his head. "You as well, Master."

Winry blinked. The words rather reminded her of Ed and Al referring to Izumi Curtis.

The three Ishvalan men continued talking, and she saw the rather odd sight of scar smiling slightly. She felt Ed squeeze her hand. For a moment, dizziness washed over her, and she shook herself. _I'd better get some food in me, and make sure I sleep tonight._

Jia, Winry saw, seemed a little lost among all of the people, and did not speak. Winry turned to her, and opened her mouth, when a slight tinkling crash caught her attention, and she turned to see Col. Armstrong apologizing in his loud voice, the remains of his wine glass on the concrete below him.

Down the way, Vanni lightly touched her husband's arm. He glanced back at her, and she smiled, nodding. "Hold on," Ciros said, turning to the man that had rushed forward, broom in hand to clean up the glass.

Vanni's smile grew wider. "Please, allow me, if the President does not mind." She bowed toward Grumman, who nodded assent, also smiling.

Winry watched, bemused, as Vanni stood, and kneeled daintily next to the broken glass.

"Careful, mi firello," Ciros warned, half standing as if to be ready should she kneel on the glass. Vanni nodded at him, and searched in her purse for a moment, pulling out a piece of chalk.

Winry glanced back at Ed, seeing from his expression that he hadn't known she could do alchemy either. Vanni drew a fairly simple array around the broken pieces, and put her hands to the ground. Now, more heads turned as blue light flared, and the glass rebuilt itself. A small indentation in the ground was revealed under the glass as she lifted it up and stood.

"I'm afraid I had to use part of your landscaping to make up for some scattered pieces, but I hope this will suffice, Mr. President sir." She bowed again, hair rippling, and set the glass on the table. Ciros beamed proudly, kissing her hand as she took her seat again.

"My uncle was an alchemist," Vanni explained, sipping her own drink. "During days when my father was working, he was my teacher. When we were through with languages and mathematics, he would teach me alchemy. That," she gestured toward the indent in the ground, "Is about as much as I know. It is very useful, however."

And so the night went on. Talking, laughter, some genuine, and some Winry knew that to be fake. Music played and people danced. A few times she thought she caught a glimpse of Ran Fan, but the movement she saw was gone in the next moment. She did speak to Jia, but the girl said little in response, as if unsure how to answer even the simplest comments. Winry wondered how often people besides Al, Mei, or Ed really talked to her, and vowed to speak to her more privately soon.

The moon shone brightly in the sky above them, and the lanterns started to dim as the night continued.


	6. Chapter 6

I considered actually having Domonic here, but changed my mind. It doesn't seem like the kind of thing he'd come to. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: FMA is not mine.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Six<span>

"Mrs. Elric, if we are truly moving toward days of peace, why is automail such a necessity?"

Winry fought the urge to smack a hand to her forehead, but knew that would just likely make her headache worse. How many times did she have to spell it out?

The room she was in was like an antechamber, rows of benches up above her, while she stood on a slightly raised platform, a table with several different models of automail on its surface. Beside her stood Carl Webb, an old friend of Domonic's, sent in his stead. Webb was balding, and had a beer belly, as well as a great smile. Before they had started, he had delighted in telling her stories of the few times Domonic had gotten drunk.

The Cretian ambassador Girard stood amid the other ambassadors, staring down at her almost fixedly. "Automail has thrived in the after-effects of war. Why should we focus on a machine that we will not use?" Alexa glanced at Girard, an eyebrow raised, and Winry tried to not roll her eyes. Her annoyance turned into a hidden grin, as a few of the ambassadors that had automail limbs looked at Girard in disbelief. "Automail is needed, Mr. Girard, because accidents happen. Automail is needed as hospitals are." She took a step forward, hands raised for emphasis. Ed smiled proudly down at her, and she determinedly kept her face serious.

"All of our countries depend upon construction and agriculture, professions both that lead to dangerous situations. Our soldiers, though not in war, still must train and may get hurt. If the damage is severe, automail may be needed. If we are to move forward in our knowledge of medicine and surgery, automail is needed. With automail not only can you walk and run, but you can _jump_," Winry stared around at them all, trying to hold their eyes. "You can grab onto things and move your limbs as if they were flesh." Her voice became softer, but still carried to them all. "For those who have lost limbs, the idea that they can move normally, function in their jobs, is one that is irreplaceable."

Webb stepped forward too, speaking to Mr. Girard. "Put it this way, sir. You traveled here by train. If the train were to get in an accident, say, loose both arms, or a leg, even a hand. You couldn't be holding a pen the way you are, stand the way you are standing, without automail. If someone tried to hurt your family, and you had lost your limbs, you would not be able to defend them without automail, a prosthetic that allows you to move normally."

And on it went. Most people had no qualms with automail, but the few that never stopped arguing or asking questions were enough to make Winry profoundly glad she had never entered politics. She was not the only one bored either; She could have sworn that Ling had fallen asleep (either that or he was squinting heavily) and Ed seemed to be engaged in a doodling battle with Al (who glanced up every once in a while as if ready to convince someone that he was, in fact, paying attention). Scar, down the way, sat by the Ishvalan High Priest, and the man she knew to be his former faster.

Finally, Grumman stood up and cleared his throat, smiling. "I think it is fair to say that in order for us to have time for our other speakers, we must conclude this for now, and leave it to us to further discuss. Mrs. Elric, Mr. Webb, we thank you for your time. Also, it is time for a ten minute break." He sat down, and applause filled the room. Winry, sighed in relief and put a hand to her forehead, hoping that it would feel better soon. It had been hurting on and off since the morning. She quickly picked up the models with Mr. Webb, and met Ed outside.

"Congratulations," Ed told her as soon as she stepped out. "You were great." He grinned cheekily. "Want me to spar someone to show the uses of automail?"

Winry chuckled while Al said, "Please. If she was going to have anyone demonstrate, it would be Panninya with her canons." He glanced back as people she didn't recognize called to him, gave her a quick hug and a few words of pride before running to the group of soldiers. Webb stepped up beside Winry, grinning, clapping her on the shoulder. "Way to handle all those stuffy men! I think half of them are ready to join your fan club."

Ed scowled and Winry rolled her eyes, giving Webb a playful shove. "Your touch was just right as well. I hope that those with questions really do believe in the value of automail."

"I think they will," Webb agreed earnestly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Some argue just to argue, but overall I think they see the true value. Besides, just thinking of the potential technology burst that could come from this-"

"I know!" Winry finished excitedly, her headache not daunting her smile, while Ed cocked an eyebrow, amused. "I mean, the combination of metals and wires with the nerves in your very skin is every scientists' dream! With the improvement or study we could even potentially make some kind of simple robot, like in that movie we saw, remember Ed? And," she continued before her husband could speak, "Thinking of the circuitry involved also speaks of possibly improving planes or weaponry or even more ordinary household appliances!"

"Exactly!" Webb beamed. "In fact, I-"

A slight bell signaled that it was time for all the ambassadors and soldiers to return to the antechamber. "Gotta go," Ed said, kissing her mouth this time. "I'll be back around six, hopefully. Love you!" He ran to the door, fixing his ponytail as he went.

"Love you too," Winry called. "And make sure you get something to eat!"

Ed gave her the backward wave she was so used to, and smiled.

"Care to share a cab?" Webb asked her as they stepped outside. "I'm staying in the Red Lion Hotel, where are you?"

Winry grinned ruefully. "The Armstrong estate."

Webb gave a low whistle. "Never mind, then. Two completely different directions. In a metaphorical sense as well," he added with a sigh.

Winry giggled. "Mr. Domonic must've had quite the time with you."

Webb chuckled. "Well, he tells a rather different opinion. He tends to recall all of the running for our lives rather than the fact that we lived."

Remembering Domonic's then-confusing-statement about 'The Panthress of Resembool', Winry's smile grew. "I'm surprised you survived at all!"

The cab pulled up to the curb, and Winry climbed in after Webb's insistence that he could wait for the next one. She looked back and he waved, one hand resting casually in his pocket.

The cab driver looked back at her. "Where to?"

"The Armstrong Mansion, please. Do you know where it-"

The cab driver raised his eyebrows. "Course we know where it is. Only the biggest house in Central. Hell, I don't even think the president's estate is bigger."

Winry smiled slightly, resting her head against the glass and closing her eyes, hoping that the coolness of the glass would help her head. Once at the Armstrong estate, she was going to stop and visit Jia; something she should have done yesterday, but had not in favor of letting Mei and Al help the girl to settle.

She'd seen the three of them, laughing, talking, and had been happy that they had each other. Watching Al, she had even felt the beginnings of jealousy. Al had only just gotten back; and now she had to let him spend time with other people. She knew it was selfish, but Al was her little brother, and she had missed him more than she could put into words.

_I'll teach him how to make apple pie tonight,_ she decided, smiling. _No way he can weasel out of it either!_

When she reached the Armstrong Estate, the guards inside let her through without much fuss, only a minor search of her bag. One of them even cracked a smile at her. From the ground she could see many of the windows and rooms inside; since the Promised Day it had been built even larger than before. Her eyes scanned the roof, but not for any real reason; she knew that Ran Fan would be with Ling at Central command until later, when she came to Winry for automail repairs. For a moment, sadness struck her. Sometimes she forgot that there would be no old man with her. Winry had been mostly raised by her own grandmother, and knew that it was much the same with Ran Fan. Though years had passed, she knew that pain like that never completely went away.

It didn't take as long as she had thought it would to find Jia's room; truthfully, the Xingese guards outside of her door had been a pretty big hint.

They looked at her as she stopped, and immediately tensed, hands seeming to go almost automatically toward their swords.

"Is there something you want?" One of them asked in thickly-accented Amestrian. Neither guard wore a mask, but both eyed her with suspicion.

"Um." Winry couldn't help but glance at his sword before she took a step forward. "Yes," she said more confidently, "I'm here to see J- Lady Jia. I'm Winry Elric."

One of the guards relaxed, but the other didn't move. "Lady Jia is resting."

"I could come back in an hour or so. Do you know when she will be up and about?"

"What business could you have with her?"

"I don't know," Winry said, slightly irritated now. "Maybe I want to pay her a visit?"

The guard's eyes narrowed. "Do not take that disrespectful tone. You may or may not be who you say you are, but the Lady Jia is resting, and-"

"_No, I'm not," _Jia's voice came faintly from the other side of the door. She said something else in Xingian, louder, and the guard turned his head slightly toward the door, responding in equally rapid Xingese, still keeping his eyes on Winry, while the other guard raised his eyebrows.

The door was pushed open, and Jia stood there, a heavy-looking silk robe wrapped around her, her hair wet. Both guards immediately stood up straighter, and Winry rather thought that Jia had to stifle the urge to sigh. But then she set her jaw, and gave the guard a hard look, crossing her arms.

"Mrs. Elric- yes, I can assure you, that is her- is welcome to visit me." She turned to Winry, and though she offered a slight smile, she also looked somewhat confused.

Winry followed her in the door, the stern guard giving her a look that clearly said _we will not hesitate to kill you._

The door swung shut, and Winry snorted. "They're a friendly bunch."

"They're just doing their job." Jia gestured to a chair, and then hesitated. "But I can see what you mean. They're a little extra protective right now, because Mei is asleep. They doubled the guards in her absence."

"Oh." Winry sat down on the cushioned chair, looking around the room. It was nicely furnished, like all of the rooms, and looked very much like her own. The only difference was the satin curtains hanging across the bed. They were a little worn, but still created a lovely sheen. Jia saw where she was looking, and blushed a little. "I know they're not very pretty, but Al and Mei gave them to me for New Year's a few years ago."

Winry smiled softly. "No, they truly are lovely." Silence fell between them. Winry fidgeted with her hands in her lap. Jia sat on the edge of her bed, a droplet of water from her hair running down her neck.

"You are friends with Emperor Ling, correct?"

Winry nodded. The title in Ling's name stood out to her, and she wondered if it was because they hardly knew each other, or because tradition dictated it be so. "He was a big help during the mess six years ago. Always hungry, and good humored. Smarter than he seemed at first too," she chuckled. "Did you know he used to ask me to come back to Xing and be his bride?"

Jia's eyes grew wide. "But-"

"He was never serious," Winry added. "I knew that." She'd known, even then, that Ling never doubted who he truly wanted for his bride. She made herself smile again. "There are some things you experience with someone that bind you forever. That is how Ed, Al, and I are with Ling."

"Al said the same thing." Jia truly smiled for the first time in Winry's sight."

For a moment there was silence again, and then Winry spoke. "I guess you're wondering why I came here."

"A little," Jia admitted. "I was honest about what I said at the door, however. You are welcome here. I do wish to…get to know you."

"My family is, after all, your family," Winry agreed. "Al and Mei have told me a lot about you."

"They have?" Jia scooted forward almost eagerly. Her actions, away from the guards and people watching her, was astounding in its difference. "Al and Mei have told me only so much about how they grew up- mostly alchemy things, you know, but I still know some of it. Emperor Ling told me a little as well! Al said that you've been making automail since you were a child, like how I was always practicing alkahesetry."

"How did you even start to learn about it?" Winry asked, honestly curious. From what she had heard, her parents wouldn't have taught her.

Jia shrugged. "I saw a few alchemy books in the market one day, and the storekeeper told me a few things. I saved up money until I could buy them, and started teaching myself. I didn't get very far, though," she admitted ruefully.

"I've heard you've come a long way," Winry said honestly; Al's letters had often detailed the young woman's progress.

Jia's face glowed with pleasure. "Under Al and Mei's tutorage, how could I not? It has been…" she hesitated, and Winry knew she was talking about more than just learning alchemy. "It has been the most wonderful time of my life."

Power, Winry decided, was an odd thing. Ling ruled over an entire country, and yet he had to bow down to the wishes of some old men. "Well," she said, offering a smile, "What do you think your chances are of beating Ed in a alchemy fight?"

Jia looked startled, and then shrugged embarrassedly, grinning. "I haven't stopped practicing."

For a while they talked of Al and Mei, memories they'd each had with them, sharing, laughing. As the minutes passed Winry felt renewed sorrow; the girl before her was caught in a web she did not even know of, caught up when all she really wanted was to be free to live.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

The other woman she saw that day was quiet. There was no smiles, no excitement. The web continue to tangle, stringing each person up inside it, dangling down to be devoured by hidden spiders.

For a while, Winry did not break the silence. Save for a quiet hello, Ran Fan had not said anything. Winry knew she itched to get back to her master, and she had limited amount of time to talk, to offer comfort, if any could be taken. They'd been friends once; no, they were friends. As she'd told Jia, some bonds could not be broken, and the young woman before her, no matter how silent or distant she was, was her friend.

Finally, she spoke softly. "It's been a long time. It's good to see you." She spotted a wire that had been damaged in travel, and bent over it with wire cutters.

Ran Fan started at her voice, and glanced up at her. "Yes. It has been…a while. And it is good to see you as well." Even her voice was soft; Winry remembered that well about her.

Winry made herself smile. "I always wanted to come and visit Xing. I hear it's a beautiful country."

"It is," Ran Fan said simply. "More so now that Emperor Ling is in power." Mentioning Ling brought more of a light to her eyes; that of both love and pride. "Young Master gained everything we had ever hoped," she added, smiling faintly.

Winry put her hand on the woman's flesh shoulder, and looked right into her eyes. "Except one."

Ran Fan's face flushed and she looked away.

Winry took her hand off her shoulder, and went back to work. _Well, no one has ever accused you of mincing words,_ she told herself with an inner sigh. _You're nearly as tactful as Ed!_

After a few moments of silence, Ran Fan spoke again, quietly. "His bride will fulfil all her duties. She is strong, can perform alchemy, even protect him were she not one to be protected herself. She will bear his children. They will wake beside each other every day…"

In that moment, her ache was clear. The simple wish to wake with the other there; Winry knew how precious that small action was.

"I do not hope for anything more than I have," Ran Fan continued, and went on so softly Winry hardly heard her. "But still I wonder, though I have no right." She seemed to have forgotten Winry was there; she looked up and flushed again. Winry hesitated, and then patted her arm, smiling.

"Ran Fan," she began, and the other woman looked at her unwillingly. "I'm so sor-"

A knock at the door interrupted her. _Damn. _Winry glanced back at Ran Fan as she went to answer the door; the woman's black hair covered her face now.

A young Ishvalan boy stood behind the door, looking as if he might run away. "Fuwaad!" Winry stepped back, surprised. She'd completely forgotten that she had invited him to come. "Please," she added quickly as any sureness the boy had had vanished from his eyes. "Please come in, I'm working on a patient now." She gestured him inside, and after hesitating for a second, he walked in the door.

He stopped at the sight of Ran Fan, his eyes wide, and Winry realized that he had likely never seen a woman's exposed stomach before. "Sit down," she said kindly. "Or stand if you wish." She turned to Ran Fan. "I forgot to tell you, sorry, but I invited Fuwaad here to come and take a look at automail repairs. I hope you don't mind." Ran Fan silently shook her head, offering Winry the barest of smiles, before turning her head away again. Winry smiled back, gesturing to her arm. "She doesn't have too much longer to go, but here, take a look."

The young man bent over Ran Fan's arm, and could not hide his fascination, looking at the scar on her shoulder.

"Quite amazing, isn't it, that the nerves can connect like that?" Winry smiled, and trailed her finger down Ran Fan's arm, to the open part with exposed wires. "I don't know how much you know about technology or automail, but please don't hesitate to ask questions if you're confused." She lifted the arm for emphasis. "Xing uses a different style of automail than you are probably used to. Each maker has their own unique look, but even then, the Xing style tends to be more sleek and pointed. To do this they use a combination of iron and…"

Again, there was a knock at the door. Slightly irritated now, her head throbbing again, Winry answered it to see Hui-ying standing there, beaming, a red dress draped over her arm.

"Hello Mrs. Elric! I'm just here for a moment to drop this off."

"Oh!" Winry stepped back. The older woman glanced at her grease covered hands and said, with a slight chuckle, "Perhaps I should come in and set it down for you."

"Of course," Winry laughed, gesturing her in. She set the dress on a mostly clear table, smoothing a few of the edges, and then spotted Ran Fan. "Ah!" With a few steps she was in front of the young woman, speaking in rapid Xingian.

Ran Fan looked startled, and backed away just a little from the woman, answering in her own soft voice.

"You know so many of my people, Mrs. Elric, perhaps I ought to be around you more often," Hui-ying glanced back and laughed again, this time holding out her hand to Ran Fan. "I know it is a bit of an odd tradition, but I'm trying to get used to it."

Still looking slightly shocked, Ran Fan hesitantly held out her flesh arm for Hui-ying to shake, and winced slightly.

Hui-ying gave a slight gasp. "Oh no, not you too! Damn, I thought I cleaned out all my pins this time!" She bowed low to Ran Fan. "I am so sorry, miss. And Mrs. Elric, I apologize for hurting your patient, I tell you, these things cling to me like- ow!" She pulled another pin out of her sleeve, looking highly exasperated.

Winry laughed, trying to ignore her still throbbing head. "It's quite all right. Thank you for bringing the dress."

"Not at all!" Hui-ying bowed. "The pleasure is all mine."

After she left, Winry sighed, hoping that she might able to actually work now. She smiled a little though, and talked to Fuwaad about nerves and limbs and surgery. Unwittingly, he moved closer, and soon she was showing him the ports, the lighter design, how more angular automail had its ups and downs, slipping in the tale of doing surgery on Ed, and the first time a patient died in her care, and how she had birthed a baby in Rush Valley.

"Ed and Al were freaking out," she told him, and even Ran Fan smirked. "_Wailing_ about how she was gonna die, while Sadilia kept screaming and breaking her poor husband's fingers-" Winry adjusted the arm, twisted a particularly stubborn wire.

Fuwaad had relaxed, even laughed, although immediately after he'd worn the look of one not allowed to laugh. Still, as she continued, he softened again. "And Panninya had to leave cause of the blood. But then it was over." Winry smiled, stopping in her work to look Fuwaad in the face. "He was so tiny. Red and wrinkled like a sunburned old man, but still, it was…"

"Beautiful," Fuwaad finished softly.

Winry nodded. "Exactly."

She closed the hatch in the arm, and stood. Ran Fan was looking past them, a slightly sad smile on her face, and Winry cursed herself for reminding her all over again. But a second later Ran Fan turned to her and smiled wider. "Thank you."

Winry knew she was thanking her for more than her work. "Of course," she said, and as Ran Fan bowed to her Winry took a step forward. "Wait." Before Ran Fan could react, Winry hugged her. The other woman flinched violently, and then froze. Winry didn't let go. Slowly, Ran Fan relaxed, and sort of leaned her head against her. Winry could not understand what she was going through, but she was there, and she hoped that could help in some small way. She pulled back, and Ran Fan gave another small smile, before she left, slipping her mask back on, returning to protect the man she would never touch.

"Well, Fuwaad," Winry began, stopping when she turned around. He wasn't there. _Must have left while we were hugging._ She cleaned up her tools, thinking of the young man who, above all else, seemed unsure, about everything.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

For a few moments, his legs did not work.

_Deserve it. Deserve it, they do._

Their smiles brought destruction, their whims brought hate. He could not trust them, could not laugh with them. Could not study alongside them, could not think about their sadness and happiness and their lives.

_For all that they have done, they will pay._

His uncle had told him of the horrors they'd committed, how they had killed his parents and his sister and now, now was his chance to get back at them.

"_Take Ishvala's words into your heart,"_ the betrayer had said. They were in his heart, entombed and etched forever, flashing across his mind along with all of their misdeeds. The little girl on the train had been unimportant. The sad woman with the automail arm did not matter. They would all pay; they would all die. All be in terrible pain. Wouldn't smile anymore as their loved ones sat at their sides.

His eyes were wet. He wiped at them, and straightened.

_They deserve it. They are getting what they deserve. It is justice._

He couldn't forget that, couldn't let them influence him. He had to be strong.

_Justice. Justice. Justice._

They had to do it. There was no other way. No other way, none at all.

…_not justice._

They would cry and beg, while he stood by and watched as they paid for their crimes.

_...wrong._


	7. Chapter 7

Well, here's the alchemy battle we've all been waiting for! :)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Seven<span>

The sun shone brightly; bringing out the green in the grass, and Al smiled, touching the ground lightly. _Perfect conditions._

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and he stumbled, glancing around to see Major Havoc grinning at him. "Hey there, Alphonse. Sorry we haven't had much time to chat lately. Things have been hella crazy around here."

"No kidding." Al stood, paying Havoc back by nudging him hard in the ribs.

"Damn," Havoc wheezed. "Where'd you get such bony elbows, kid?"

"Well," Rebecca countered next to him, "How did you get so weak? Honestly," she rolled her eyes. "Here I think I've found a good man and he's incapacitated by an _elbow_." She snorted. Both were still in uniform, although Rebecca's jacket was open, revealing her black shirt underneath.

"You guys here for the entertainment?" Al asked, walking swiftly back to the sidelines with them.

Havoc shrugged. "I was there when the chief fought Mustang. I gotta see this."

Al laughed again. "Well, you'll be seeing two different types of alchemy. Jia is more familiar with her countries' alchemy than our own. See if you can spot the differences."

Rebecca eyed Ed standing over by Winry, who was sitting down and laughing at something he was saying. "No chance he'll be taking his shirt off, is there?" She asked wistfully.

Havoc pretended to look hurt.

Rebecca rolled her eyes again. "As if you won't want to see Winry without her shirt on?"

Before Havoc could answer, a slight commotion down the way caught their attention. Jia stood with Mei (who seemed hard pressed to stop herself from smiling) and the young Ishvalan boy Scar had brought with him- Fuwaad, Al thought it was. Scar was standing a little off to the side looking, to Al's complete amazement, slightly embarrassed.

Fuwaad was talking in a slightly raised voice. "It is your choice if you wish to engage in such sinful acts, I cannot stop you! I only wished to question-"

"Because _you_ are so wise?" Jia raised her eyebrows, hands on her hips, seeming to have forgotten the guards and ambassadors at her sides. "Perhaps your doings are a sin to me! You may as well call mechanics or medicine evil because that goes against god's plan, correct? So I suppose that means we are to bleed and die rather than help our bodies!"

Fuwaad scowled, as all around people turned to watch, interested. "That is completely different! With medicine you are using God's ideals to heal! With alchemy you are _deliberately_ changing-"

"Alchemy is a scientific art that furthers the world!" Jia stood proudly, more passionate than Al had seen her lately, and he smiled, covering the grin behind his hand. That was the Jia he knew. Not the face she put forward to avoid scandal; but stubborn, proud, and ready to stand for what she believed in. "Like anything powerful, in the wrong hands it is bad, but it is no more evil than you are! Just as you or I are not evil merely because of our abilities or culture!"

Fuwaad's face went slack, mouth hanging open.

"You…" A Xingese ambassador, recovering from shock at her outburst, stepped forward angrily. "You will treat the Lady Jia with proper respect!"

"Respect?" Fuwaad clenched his fist, but froze as several Xingian men- with _very_ long swords- stepped in front and around her. He blinked, and Al saw Jia sigh.

Ling stood, speaking in a deeper, regal voice, that Al sometimes had trouble recognizing as his. "Stand down. The boy was merely caught in a heated moment. My wife to be is quite fiery." He smiled, and the crowd laughed, the men with swords drawing back. "I believe we were about to see a wondrous match of skills, yes?" He settled back into his seat. Jia, her expression in check now, walked onto the field, completely ignoring Fuwaad.

Ed was waiting for her, and Al jogged out a little toward them, stopping several feet away. He raised his hand, and both tensed, ready for the fight. Jia drew her knives; they were a little longer than Mei's, with a dragon carved on the hilts.

"Go!" Al shouted, and he couldn't help but smirk at the memory of Maes Hughes doing what he was; running for dear life.

He turned around just in time to see Ed jump backward and to the side, clapping his hands together and into the dirt, creating a giant fist that sprung out from the ground, missing Jia by inches. Jia threw her knives at the ground, creating spikes that followed Ed as he ran, grinning.

"Trying to give me a closer shave?" he called, clapping his hands together again, sliding them along the ground, drawing up the thick rope he'd created, swinging it over his shoulder.

Jia scowled, but did not answer, as Ed slammed his hands to the ground again, a wave of earth was created behind her, sending her flying forward, skidding along her knees in the dirt. Coughing in the dust, Al saw her look around quickly, and jumped back as Ed appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She threw her knives to the ground, and a wall built up between them. Al winced as Ed ran headfirst into that wall, and stepped back, momentarily dazed. However, as Jia rounded the other side of the wall, Ed regained his wits and drew the rope, jumping up, pushing off using the wall, dangling the rope down; Jia grunted as the rope hit her abdomen, and Ed dropped, twisting it around her before she could blink. She fell back against the wall, and Ed grinned in front of her.

"Don't be cocky," she said, and Al frowned as the wall exploded.

"How'd she do that?" Havoc asked as Ed and Jia continued to fight.

"Drew a transmutation circle with her finger, I think." Al stood on tip toe to try and see through the dust that had risen again.

This time it was Jia that appeared behind Ed, striking him once in the neck, another time in the stomach, and Ed collapsed, his eyes flicking around wildly, apparently unable to see.

"She blinded him?" Havoc gaped, and Rebecca gave a low whistle.

Mei, at Al's side, nodded in approval. "Good girl."

After a moment, Ed rolled to the side just as the ground formed to make a trap. He got to his feet, no longer looking wildly around. For several moments, there was absolute stillness. Jia threw her knives again, and Ed still did not move; as Jia stepped to the side his head flicked toward her, and he slammed his palms to the ground.

For a moment, Al had a very strong feeling of Deja vu, as a dome rose out of the ground, encasing a very startled Jia. A deep crevice was cut into the ground around the dome, and Ed kneeled on the ground, waiting once again. He shook his head a few times, and Al knew that his vision would be starting to return. Mei would have been able to blind Ed permanently if she wanted to, but Jia had not yet been taught how to maintain such a feat.

The right part of the dome blew up, and Ed's head snapped up, tensing. Al could just see Jia standing in the dust, but Ed rolled to the side as hands popped out of the ground around him, more dust hiding them both from view.

The wind picked up, and Jia sprinted forward, giving a startled cry as a small hand erupted from the ground, grasping her foot. Before she could do more than fall onto her face, two large dirt hands sprung from the ground, wrapping around her shoulders and torso.

The dust settled, and Ed stood there, facing a little to the left of them. The extent of their battle was revealed in all the hollow places in the ground around him.

Ed squinted, head cocked to one side, walking in Jia's general direction. Jia was still struggling fiercely against the rock, but this time could not get her hands free.

Al sprinted out to meet them, as did several worried Xingese ambassadors. Ling, however, stood up and clapped, and soon those around him were following suit.

Ed released Jia from her bonds, and she looked up at him a trifle resentfully. He laughed, and held out a hand to help her up, when the Xingese ambassadors reached her, and pulled her up, jabbering away in rapid Xingese. Jia answered them curtly, and then walked forward. Ed raised an eyebrow at her, and in spite of her pride she gave a small smile. He grinned at her and she laughed, bowing. To Al's slight surprise, Ed bowed back.

"Next time," Jia said clearly, straightening. "You will not be so lucky." A smile twitched her mouth again, but the Xingese men nodded seriously behind her.

Ed laughed, and turned, heading back toward Winry, who was sitting with her head in her hands. She looked up and smiled as Ed approached, but there were dark circles under her eyes. Al frowned. "Mei?"  
>"Yes?" Mei stopped on her way forward to give Jia a hug, brushing his hand with hers.<p>

"Has Winry mentioned feeling sick lately?"

Mei shrugged. "It would seem the stress is getting to a lot of people. I've had a rather bad headache lately, remember? Riza told me she had been feeling similar as well. Stress has a way of manifesting physically."

"True." Al shook his head, and kissed her hand. Her smile grew, and he felt himself smile back. She had that effect on him, and there was little that made him happier than seeing her smiling. Well, that, or the times they were alone and she wore nothing but her long unbound hair…

She seemed to recognize where his thoughts were going and giggled. "Later, beloved."

"Who says I'm willing to wait until tonight?" Al pouted, kissing her.

Mei arched an eyebrow. "Who said anything about waiting until tonight?"

With that, she kissed him again, and met with Jia, clasping the girl's hand.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"Momma," Selim called from the stairs. "Are the cookies ready yet?"

She rolled her eyes. "No Selim." She couldn't help smiling. He was slowly growing out of the stage of calling her 'momma', but sometimes still slipped up.

"Selim," she heard Maisa say. "You know the cookies won't cook any faster if you ask that."

Leona choked, and held back her giggles as her son responded resentfully. Smiling to herself, she walked to the counter where the mail was sitting.

_No, I am not interested in joining your bank,_ she thought, tossing the first letter in the trash. _Or getting a subscription._ She tossed the next few, and then stopped, lifting a package into the air. It was around the width of a dinner plate, about as tall as the average vase. She shook it gently, and there was the sound of something small clinking around within.

_Odd. _She frowned, and used her fingernail to tear at the tape around the box. _Its addressed to me from a town I've never heard of. Probably another charity giving me a gift in exchange for becoming their spokesperson. _

Inside was a large amount of ripped up paper. Leona raised her eyebrows, digging through it.

"Ow!" She drew back sharply, dropping the box, blood dripping from her finger. She stuck the finger in her mouth, sucking on it, hissing curses under her breath. The box tipped before it hit the ground, and the glass skittered to every corner of the room.

"Mom?" Selim's voice came from up the stairs again.

"Stay up there you two," Leona called up to them as a maid rushed into the room. "I just dropped something, that's all!"_ It must have broken before it arrived. Too bad._

"Lily, would you help me clean this up please?"

As Leona bent down, careful to not kneel on the glass, she noticed that all of the pieces of glass were different colors and textures- like they had never fit together in the first place.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"….heard anything yet, sir?" Breda looked at him questioningly.

Roy shook his head, and Riza tightened her hand in his. "Nothing conclusive. By all accounts it seems to be a prank."

"Why broken glass though?" Ed asked thoughtfully. "Doesn't seem to have much meaning behind it."

Riza shook her head, trying to clear it, and focus on the conversation. She glanced at her daughter, being led in a dance by Vanni, who laughed, her long hair flying around her face. Maisa glanced over, and waved, grinning. Riza smiled faintly back. She had gone through all of the scenarios in her head- the horrible ideas of what could have happened. What if Maisa had fallen on the glass? What if it had somehow flown in her eyes? What if the box had contained something worse than broken glass?

She shook herself again, trying to get the nightmarish images from her mind. Roy, sensing her discomfort, squeezed her hand. She smiled at him gratefully.

"It is a poor warning, or a poor prank, in either case," Ling said, sipping his drink. "We do not understand what they would be warning against, and Madam Bradley hardly scratched her finger."

"Then why go through the trouble in the first place?" Al asked. "Most pranks are pretty elaborate, or at least cause more damage. In comparison, this is hardly anything to worry about."

"Which is why you worry, of course," Mei finished logically, and Al nodded. Jia watched the conversation, saying nothing. Al knew that she was thankful to be included, and he had thanked Ling in turn for asking her to come.

Ciros was watching his wife dancing with Maisa, but still said, "Perhaps it is a…warning of some kind after all. Strange things have happened in this country before, after all…we cannot count out danger." He continued without looking at them, "I do not know the details of that battle six years ago. No claims seem to be reliable. But," he looked back at them now, no hint of a smile on his face. "Danger has often been associated with this country. We must consider every possibility."

All around them the party continued. People laughed, danced, and across the way Nicolai made his way toward them, carrying the drinks he had promised to bring back.

"Harmless at first, maybe, but if whoever sent it to her continues, They could send her things that do more than give her a cut on the hand," Winry mused. "Maybe this was a test?"

Roy nodded. "All of these are possibilities. The president has said that nothing else has come up; he has only determined, as Madam Bradley suspected, that they were pieces of glass that had never fit together."

"And there," Aleka said, brushing a hand down her long, dark blue silky gown, "Is the issue. Break that glass, or gather up that glass- glass that doesn't match, at that, and send it to the wife of the late president? It would seem they had some time to spare."

"I believe Mrs. Elric has spoken most wisely of all," Demos, at Aleka's side, said. Even in his seriousness, it seemed as if a smile still hung at the edges of his mouth, like he was made to be cheerful. "A test- if these pieces of glass could get through, what else could they hide?"

"Isn't-" Jia began, and then stopped, as if surprised at herself. Riza tried to smile kindly at her, but pain blossomed across her head, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"Isn't all of her mail being opened and checked now?" Jia finished, confused. "So if it was a test, it doesn't seem like they'll get something else through."

"True," Demos agreed. "However, it is possible to disguise objects, or for them to have more dangerous things hidden within them. Say, a bomb hidden in a clock. A hunting trap hidden within a child's toy."

Riza flinched inwardly. "Her husband was not particularly well-liked. He had his supporters of course, but many of his decisions were looked upon in confusion. It is not to difficult to imagine someone taking their idea of revenge against the former president too far, and therefore try to eradicate the rest of his family." Her words felt slow, her tongue thick, but no one else seemed to hear anything wrong with her speech.

And on it went, in seemingly endless circles. Even after Vanni had come toward them with Maisa, the topic did not change. Maisa and Selim, with Leona Bradley at her house, had been questioned as witnesses, even though nothing had really happened. Maisa, well aware of what was going on (she had even put forward a few of the theories the others had suggested) had also asked, with wide, confused eyes, what Vanni said as she walked up to them.

"Why would someone do that to her? She is very sweet. From what I have heard, most everyone likes her." Vanni held her husband's hand.

"I think the only thing we can know now," Roy said, brushing back his daughter's hair with a warning look at them all, "Is that we can't know anything for sure."

Maisa looked up at him shrewdly. "You're only phil-" she struggled for a moment with the word, looking frustrated. "Philosophical," she finished, "When you don't want me to know something."

Roy looked down at her, unable to help smiling a little. "You're too smart for your own good, sweetie." He hesitated, and leaned down toward her. "You are very smart- one of the smartest people I know, but there are some things you really have to hear when you're older."

Maisa's chin- Roy's chin- jutted out. "Why can't I know now?"

Riza knew Roy was struggling to not respond with a petulant 'because'. "Maisa," he said seriously, taking her by both arms lightly. "I love you, and I tell you as much as I can. But there are some things you will not understand until you are older. I'm afraid you're going to have to accept that."

For a few moments, Maisa pouted more.

"Maisa," Riza said quietly, and the girl looked up at her, and gave a slight nod. "Fine."

Nicolai finished handing out the drinks he had brought back. Demos nodded his thanks, as did Breda and Havoc. Rebecca snatched the drink from Havoc's hand playfully, taking a sip before he could. Smiling, Nicolai handed a slightly bubbling drink out to Vanni, who hesitated.

"I'm afraid I don't drink alcohol," She confessed, and Nicolai smiled easily. "I know, madam. Your husband informed me that you prefer sweet drinks. This is a drink I loved as a child; you've probably had it before." He handed it to her, and she took a sip, her eyes widening in delight.

Conversation broke apart, as did the group.

Winry and Ed wandered over to the Ishvalan High Priest Majid, Aleka and Demos in their wake. Riza saw Ed whisper something to Winry, and she laughed. Riza smirked, remembering Ed's widened eyes as he had taken her in before they arrived; her dress had been beautiful. Hui-ying had not been joking about any of their dresses. Winry's was red, strapless, and came to just a little above her knees. Tiny red beads were sewn onto the fabric at the top, and the bottom flared out a little so that it swished as she walked. Her long hair was up in and elegant bun, a few tendrils loose and hanging around her face. Mei, at Alphonse's side, looked equally lovely in her dark purple dress. She had opted to go for a more Amestrian design, and the dress plunged into a v-neck, the dress ending above her knees, and it tied up in straps at her shoulders. The dress flared out a little, her hair piled gracefully on top of her head.

Her own dress was just as lovely, and vastly different. Strapless, and a light, rather sky-colored blue, it fell to her ankles, and the bodice was almost heart shaped, showing, to Roy's delight, a good amount of her cleavage.

As another song began, Al took Mei in his arms, spinning her around. Without a word, more Xingese men surrounded Jia and Ling. Maisa danced with Vanni again, and a grinning Vanni dragged her husband to join them.

_After all I have done, all I have seen, _Riza thought, watching her daughter, feeling Roy holding her close, _I have a family- a life for which I would trade nothing. I am happy._

Truthfully, she had never expected such a thing to be possible, and yet there she stood; with Roy, and all of his smirks and strength, his fears, his sadness, the things he only shared with her. Their daughter; beautiful, brilliant, unsure and faltering, but with the strength and ability they both had given her.

"You feel warm, love." Roy whispered in her ear, turning her around in slight concern. "Are you alright?"

She smiled, and nodded, leaning into him. In response he twirled her out among their friends, and those that had once been their enemies.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

Below, the bright lights glittered almost like stars. The people flitted between them, spinning, laughing, glowing in their own light.

Her master stood there, his eyes searching. She knew what he was looking for, and pulled back more into the darkness.

Below, Edward Elric steadied his wife as she stumbled. She waved off his concern with a smile. The Areguan King kissed his wife, tilting her back, and the Cretian Queen leaned into her husband's side. General Roy Mustang, and Colonel Riza Mustang danced together, sinuous, as if they were one being. Their dark-eyed child joined them, and they spun her around in the air, her hair flying around her, laughter carrying up to the roof. Alphonse Elric sat with Mei Chang, who rubbed her head as if in slight pain.

Graceful. Wearing beautiful gowns and glittering smiles; a world to which Ran Fan did not, and would never, belong.

A young Isvhalan man approached Lady Jia, speaking with her. She was surprised, raising her eyebrows, but after he said something else she nodded, and gave a faint smile. The man hesitated, as if about to say more, and then turned and walked away.

The Drachman King spoke to the direct subordinates of Roy Mustang, smiling, handing them a new drink when they dropped their own.

Master Ling stood, his arms at his sides, and walked toward his future wife, extending his hand. Lady Jia hesitated, and then took it, allowing herself to be led forward, not looking at her husband to be.

Ran Fan peered over the side of the building, watching as Master Ling gently took her hands, and together they turned.

His eyes found her, now, found her and stayed there, meeting her again each time they turned.

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

She sank wearily onto the couch, leaning against his shoulder. He looked over in slight amusement, curling his arm around her. "Impressive. It always takes me at least an hour to get her to sleep."

"A half hour isn't much better," Riza's muffled voice came from his shoulder. He chuckled. "Was it reading or singing this time that did it? Or neither?"

"I told her a story about a princess," Riza mumbled, looking up with a slight smile. "After I wasted my time singing, as soon as I started going on and on about what jewelry the princess wore, she was out."

Roy laughed, and quieted at his wife's glare. "What gave you the idea?"

"Winry, actually. She said that was what her parents did to get her to sleep."

They laughed again, quietly, and for several moments there was nothing but warmth. He kissed her neck, lightly kissing up to her jaw and ear, his arms sliding around her waist.

"I missed you," he whispered, and he pulled at the top of her dress, kissing down her collarbones, teasing the dress down past her breasts.

Her arms went around him automatically, head tilting back as he continued down, the ache in her head spreading. She winced, hissing, drawing back from him, and smiled apologetically. "Not tonight. Headache."

He frowned, with what she knew was only partially disappointment. "You weren't feeling well earlier either."

"I'm fine," she insisted, and leaned close, giving him a light kiss. His tongue licked at her lips out of reflex, she knew, and she pressed her forehead to his. She closed her eyes. "If it weren't for this dammed headache, I'd-"

"I know." Roy kissed her lips, lightly this time.

She sat back, and her eyes caught on the stack of letters on the table, remembering that she'd brought them in with her from the mailbox after dinner. _Maybe these will provide a distraction from my head._

There were no packages full of glass, only letters. At the end of it was a folded piece of paper. Frowning, she touched Roy's knee, and he sat up, peering forward as she unwrapped the letter.

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

"Sir?"

He looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of him. Already he'd exhausted three pens. _Being president is five percent speeches, ten percent panic, and eighty-five percent paperwork,_ he thought, settling back some in his chair.

"Yes, Lt. Cane?"

The young Lt. smiled apologetically, holding up a stack of letters. "Your mail, sir. These arrived for you this morning."

He shrugged, sitting up straighter. "Be a relief for the carpal tunnel, if nothing else." He grinned. "Want to trade places with me for a day, Lt?"

"Only if for that same day you make the rumored miniskirt policy a reality, sir," Cane responded with amusement. "That would be quite a sight."

"Indeed," Grumman mused. "Thought truth be told it would not be my first time in women's clothing." Seeing his secretary's startled look, he laughed. "Oh, as they say, what I do on weekends is my business, Lt! Thank you for bringing those in."

"O-of course, sir," Crane said, still slightly surprised, setting the mail on the crowded table. "I'll be outside if you need any-anything."

Grumman's grin widened. "If I wish to borrow your clothes, I'll let you know."

Chuckling to himself as the door closed, Grumman pondered his paperwork, and then turned to the mail. As he picked up the stack, a folded piece of paper fell out of it. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he picked it up, thumb sliding beneath the fold.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"Hey, Ed," Al called. "There was some mail for you left at the door. One from teacher, for both of us, a letter for Winry from Panninya…" he handed the small stack of papers to him with a smile. A small piece of paper slid out, folded down the middle.

"What's this?"

Al shrugged, and started back for his own room. "Say goodnight to Winry for me, brother. See you."

"See you," Ed called back, smiling, backing into his own room.

"What's up?" Winry asked from the couch, her hands over her eyes.

Ed touched her forehead. "You have a bit of a fever. I'll ask Mei to stop by in the morning, okay? For now, keep drinking water."

She nodded, giving a slight smile. "Here," he said, tossing a letter toward her. "This is from Panninya."

He pulled the folded piece of paper forward, sliding it open.

In large letters, rather like those that would headline a newspaper, one sentence was written.

TURN YOURSELF IN, OR ALL OF THEM WILL DIE.

* * *

><p>I believe this is the part where I say: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

The plot continues to thicken. :)

Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. I'm afraid my genie is on strike.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Eight<span>

They ran to the cars waiting for them, and he was careful to keep his expression schooled.

They had all received their messages. All of the leaders, coming back to rest after a long night, had found the letters- the first contact.

More would come soon.

The Victor had succeeded the previous night. Soon, they would fall. And their loved ones would suffer, beg for the relief.

Relief that would not come, for even in death they would suffer, be haunted by their evil deeds.

The Star knew that for their own sins, there would be peace. Peace that none before had known. He remembered his family; his mother, father, his brother, his beautiful wife. Dead. Burned and shot and stabbed by Amestrians with pointed grins. His hands clenched.

_If you wrong us, shall we not revenge?_

Behind him, Adeel approached, sliding into the car next to him; there were people shouting all around, running, scrambling, and the wives and brothers and sisters that would all soon die were waiting or running with them, and he turned, the large ring on his hand slicing deeply into Adeel's arm.

_He cares about Winry Elric, about his master, Adeel…he's going to be one of the councilors in Central, _the boy had told him.

Time was so short for them, Adeel did not even care about his apology, ignoring the bleeding arm. In a few day's time, Adeel would be bleeding and dying with the others.

_They will suffer, as the future will not. And I will watch, and as they pass over I will whisper the names of my family, so the evil ones will be haunted for eternity._

His hands tightened on his knees as the car sped forward.

_Ishvala, guide me in these coming days_.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

Pain rippled across her eyes. She blinked, and for a moment it receded, just a little, and she smiled as Elysia showed Maisa the old toy mouse Winry had fixed years ago, letting it zoom around the rug. Maisa set her tiger off after it, and the two watched gleefully as the tiger seemed to chase the mouse under the couch.

Winry watched them, and she realized that her hands were shaking. Sweat coated her forehead. She wiped at it, closing her eyes for a moment, but the sound of Elysia and Maisa's laughter made her head pound.

"Winry?"

She opened her eyes, to see Gracia standing in front of her, a cup of tea in her hand, her eyebrows furrowed. She sat down beside Winry, handing her the tea. "Are you alright?"

Winry gave a small smile. "Just a headache. I had a little bit of a cough last night, too." She sighed. "What a time to get a cold." She set the tea on the side table, hands folding in her lap.

"Do you know much yet?" Gracia asked quietly.

Winry shook her head. "No. But with this, and what happened with Mrs. Bradley, we can't take any chances. All of the world leaders, plus Ed, Al, and Roy got these letters. Looks like they were made with printing stamps. Ed said they're gonna check and see if any newspaper places have been robbed lately…try to get any kind of information they can."

After a moment, she said, "This reminds me of all those years ago, when Ed and Al would leave and plan and fight while I was left behind. But I'm here now. I'm here and they'll come home tonight, and tell me what is going on."

Gracia gave a slight smile, and continued to watch her.

Winry circled the rim of her teacup, her smile lifting at the corners as the tiger zoomed past her foot. "I'm worried. Of what all this may bring. In many ways its as if everyone has only just settled down, and now…now things are crazy again. That they may become terrifying. Dangerous." She stopped, and let out a low breath, closing her eyes as her vision swam. "I don't know what to do."

"I know," Gracia said softly, patting her arm. "I know."

"I'm not a warrior, a soldier. Ever wish you were?" Winry asked, feeling a bit like she was babbling. She had a hard time focusing on Gracia's face.

"Sometimes," Gracia said, smiling wistfully. "So that I could help people, hurt those that hurt others. So I could be with Maes. So that I could learn to better protect my daughter."

"I understand," Winry said, "I know-"

The headache and the dizziness and everything filled her, then, filled her stomach and her throat, every inch of her body and she stood, stumbling. "Bathroom," she muttered, wobbling forward even as Gracia called after her in concern.

Her head pounded with her heartbeat, and the room was foggy and hot and her legs wouldn't work right and she gagged as acid filled her throat and bubbled in her stomach, her hand catching the wall.

Something dripped from her, dripped down her lip and from her eyes, and she swayed, struggling to stay upright as Maisa bounded up behind her, asking something about the tiger but Winry couldn't think, couldn't register anything beyond the pain and swirling colors and sounds.

Something red had splattered the floor at her feet, and her throat worked to get past the broken glass trapped there as her lungs flared and she coughed, and the red splattered the wall this time.

And she fell, Maisa's face swimming in front of her eyes as Gracia hurried over and Elysia yelled into the phone, and upstairs someone screamed Mei's name.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"-clearly a threat! It cannot be ignored!"

"What can we do? The letters were anonymous, the newspaper did not see anything-"

"We must interview the secretaries, the maids, anyone that took in the mail yesterday," Roy said calmly. "They may have seen someone, or at least they can help determine that the messages arrived either because people went in the house, or because the mailman brought it. These are essential questions, and we can't act rashly, or move too quickly. If these people are serious," Roy continued with quiet menace. "Then we will find them. They may bolt if they hear that we are making quick decisions!"

Grumman stood among them, waving his hands for quiet. "I have added extra security at public places- particularly hospitals or schools. The guards at the Armstrong estate and the Red Lion hotel have also been doubled."

"Think that'll help?" Al whispered to Ed, who shrugged. "May stop 'em from sending more letters. But it doesn't help us find them."

Ed watched as Grumman worked to calm the crowd.

…_or all of them will die._

Turn themselves into who? Who would die? Why was this happening?

He ran a hand over his face, sighing. _Should've known we couldn't all get together without some shit going down._

Riza gave a hacking cough, and Ed glanced up at her. She waved off her husband's glance, straightening. Ed saw Roy continue to frown at her, at the obvious pain in her eyes. Riza gave a faint smile, and he turned forward again.

Colonel Alex Armstrong stood suddenly, as if excusing himself, and he coughed, deep and rasping like Riza, swaying where he stood, and the people around shouted in alarm as blood flecked their faces, and he fell over, crashing across the seats.

Riza was coughing again; Ed only dimly registered it as they all rushed forward toward Col. Armstrong, saw as she tried to go forward and help them, saw as she stumbled, and blood was coating her hand, and he yelled Roy's name as Riza also pitched forward, her eyes rolling up.

Roy's scream shattered the chaos.

The next minutes were a blur; people running and shouting, sirens sounding in the distance, and he didn't know what to say, how to put his feelings to words, unable to stand it as he watched two of the strongest people he had ever known loaded onto stretchers.

Someone was tapping at his shoulder. "Sir?" He turned to see a soldier standing behind him, pale, eyes wide. "Sir," the soldier said urgently. "Si,r a Gracia Hughes just called to tell you that your wife fainted at your house- bleeding from her nose, eyes, like they were, and your fiancé-" he turned to Al "was in the same condition! They're on their way to the hospital-"

Ed did not hear anything else the soldier shouted at them as he and his brother ran.

The seconds passed like hours, waiting, watching- praying.

Roy was slumped in a chair, Maisa in his lap, leaning her cheek against his chest, watching the hospital doors with wide eyes, uncharacteristically silent. Roy stared at the door as well, his shoulders shaking. Al knew that the sight of Riza slumping like that, covered in blood- as Mei must have-

He shuddered, closing his eyes, fighting back a cry. Mei, Winry, Riza, Alex Armstrong…all bleeding, all lying in hospital beds unable to wake.

Ed was pacing. Al knew Roy would have been doing much the same if his daughter had not needed him.

Al couldn't move. Could hardly think. All he could see was the glimpse of her face- blood drying, pale, eyes closed. She had looked dead. _Oh god, Mei, Mei, and Winry- his sister, his sister, lying bleeding, bleeding with their eyes shut._

His nails were leaving marks on his temples. He didn't care.

Jia sat beside him, pale, not speaking, her arms wrapped around herself. If he could have, he would have held her, and let them both fall apart. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the door.

Ling was beside her, changed from six years ago when he had not known Mei; now his sister was in there, his sister needed help that his power as the Emperor could not give her. His friend, his comrade, was also in there, bleeding, waiting, and Ling was still as a statue, basically ignoring the ambassadors and guards that surrounded him.

Mei, beautiful, wonderful, smiling and sly Mei- so powerful and strong, small and warm, holding him safe as he held her in return. But he hadn't kept her safe. Tears collected in his eyes, and dripped down his nose slowly.

Winry, his sister- there for him and Ed no matter what, to mop up their wounds and keep them fighting, to soothe their aches and sing softly when they couldn't sleep; _oh gods, please, please let them be alright._

Riza and Armstrong, deadly, powerful, who had helped them with so much all those years ago; who had never been afraid of his armor, who had treated him like a _person_, the kid that he was.

Ed was clenching and unclenching his fists. With a snarl he kicked at a chair that went skidding across the room. The nurse behind the desk stood up. "Now, really! You can't-"

Ed turned on her too, but before he could say anything, Dr. Knox appeared through the swinging doors. His face was grim. Al found himself in front of Dr. Knox, next to his brother, without remembering when he'd moved.

"What's going on?" Ed demanded, and there was no anger in his voice, only desperation.

Knox looked at them seriously, sadly. "We don't really know."

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Roy said in his softest, most deadly voice.

Knox was not fazed. He ran a hand over his face. "Everything we do has no effect, or makes things worse! Its like nothing I've ever seen! If they continue like this, all of them will die!"

Al could've sworn something hit him in the gut with the force of a falling building. He even stumbled back, and for a moment heard nothing past the ringing in his ears. "Wh-what?"

Knox said it again, quietly. "There are too many possibilities. They will waste away, continue to bleed; they will catch something at the hospital; or they will simply never wake up. In any case, they will die if they remain like this."

Maisa gave a frightened squeak, and tears fell in full force down her face. Roy held her tightly against him, his entire body shaking. "You- you can't give up, you can't!"

"This can't happen! How can you let this happen?" Al screamed, feeling the sounds tear at his throat, and as Ed lunged for Knox, grabbing him by the collar, Jia pushed past them, running for the swinging doors.

"Stop!" Knox called after her, "You can't go in there-"

But Al ignored the man, running after her. _Alkahestry. We know it. We can save them! Please, please let this work!_

He could hear the sounds of the others running after him, briefly heard Roy tell his daughter to stay where she was, heard his brother shouting at people to get out of his way, and Al did not care that he had no idea where the room was.

He rounded a corner and lurched to a stop. Jia stood in front of a door, and blocking the door was Dr. Knox Jr., his face set in a very familiar scowl. "Stop," he said fiercely.

"Get out of the way," Ed hissed.

"If you don't, we will make you move," Al raised his hands threateningly.

Knox Jr. did not budge. "Listen to me! You can't go in there!"

"We'll go in there if we damn well please, so get out of the way!" Ed advanced on him, but Knox Jr. stood his ground, pressing on as if Ed hadn't spoken. "If you have a disease right now that you don't know about, and you give it to them, they will die! You cannot rush in there and risk that!"

For a moment, there was silence again, but they recovered quickly.

"They know medical alchemy, you idiot!" Ed screeched, gesturing to Al and Jia. "They could help where you can't!"

"Let them in," Roy said, "Let them in and try to help." He stepped closer. "Please. Let them in."

Dr. Knox senior rounded the corner as well, huffing a little, and stopped in front of them. "See," he wheezed, "You can't- too dangerous-"

"You know medical alchemy? From Xing?" Knox Jr. asked Al quietly, his eyes flicking to Jia as well. Al nodded stiffly, impatient. _Let us in now, now, we have to help them, have to be able to help, please, oh gods Mei hold on-_

Knox senior stood straighter, and nodded to himself as well. "Call doctor Marcoh," he told his son. "Let them through, see what they can do."

Al did not wait for the man to move; he rushed forward, Jia with him, and he glanced back to see his brother, desperate, waiting, not willing to risk hurting Winry, his eyes pleading with Al to help them.

_Hold on, all of you. Please._

"Put on masks," Dr. Knox said behind them, entering the room, pulling his own back on. Al nodded vaguely, feeling the mask set into his hands. Jia made a small sound at the sight in front of them.

Mei was the first person he saw. Pale; so small, a slight furrow between her eyebrows, blood still circling her nose, dried bits rimming her mouth. Winry, next to her, seemed as if all the color in her body had gone to her hair, her eyelids almost translucent.

He pulled the mask on. _We'll help you. I promise._


	9. Chapter 9

Well, now we're going to be getting into some of the stuff that gives this story an M rating. In other words, dark things cometh!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Nine<span>

Days of waiting, days of hoping and dreaming, and now, in the midst of it all, he was reunited with her.

After they had first married, there had always been smiles and laughter. She had liked flowers and painting, liked sleeping in and dragging him back into bed despite his chuckling insistence that he had to leave. When they argued, it was quiet, and she would merely look at him, either in apology or in fury, and even in those moments of rushing anger he loved her more than he could express. Leaving her home had not been easy for her, but she had been happy- happy to be with him.

Now, as they pulled together in the darkness, he felt her face; it was familiar to him, and he knew all of her lines as well as if he could see them; knew her scars, her lips, nose, collarbones, and he held her and in those brief moments he could forget.

He kept a picture with him at all times. In it, his queen is smiling and her stomach is rounded with their child, and he holds her close, confident that he would never fail in protecting her. They made love, then, and for a moment as everything rushed through him and she looked up at him with her clear eyes, it was easy to pretend that the scars weren't there, that after she would not need the lights to be left on, that she would sleep without nightmares.

"Tell me again," she whispered. "Tell me of how they will die."

He had vowed to her over and over again that he would do it, in those days where she had not known herself, had woke screaming, clawing at her stomach in agony, frightened of every shadow. Only that promise had woken her, after weeks of holding her, tying her down to keep her from hurting herself.

"Of course," he told her. For all they had done, they would die. He could not get her to sleep any other way, and as her eyelids drooped closed he stroked her cheek, her hair, kissed her neck.

His arms were not enough to protect her anymore. His words of love were not enough. He filled her mind with visions of death and though at the end she whispered of how she loved him, his tears still fell for the horrors that helped her to sleep. _They will pay._

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

He watched as Scar sat, motionless, his head in his hands. He seemed smaller, somehow, and for Fuwaad it was strange to see.

All around him was quiet. He knew that he should have been celebrating, because the first stage had been enacted, but even when he was alone, he found that he lacked the energy to smile.

_They will pay for what they did. This is justice._ He knew the words by heart, tried to let them fill him up. That was what happened- when someone did something bad, they were punished. He had learned that as a child; do bad things and face the consequences.

The people- evil ones, were facing those consequences.

Still, he had not been able to look at the Flame Alchemist's daughter. Despite the color differences, she looked far too much like the little ones he'd known in the slums. Seeing children upset or hurting was always difficult, as if something so small, with hardly a chance to experience the joy in the world, should never have had reason to know such sorrow yet.

_They deserve it._

He could not argue against that. They deserved this hurt, after killing so many.

He supposed that it would be strange for him to see the people around him sad; he had been staying with some of them for quite a while now, and seeing the grief on their faces was odd in a way he could not name.

The Xingese girl- Jia, was more pale than the snow back at Briggs. She had not once looked away from Mei Chang's face- a fact that he could attribute to courage, a little guiltily, because each time they passed he found that he could do nothing _but_ look away.

Even Olivia Armstrong- so dispassionate and cold, was…strange. Surprise had been the first emotion on her face at the news, and disbelief. There was something off about the set of her jaw, and though she stood as straight as ever, her grip on her sword seemed to suggest that she would slice anyone that bothered her in half. Colonel Miles at her side didn't wear his usual smile; he had dark circles under his eyes and was quiet, like the rest of them. As he watched, Miles coughed a little to himself, but no one else even glanced at him. As Miles straightened again, Fuwaad wondered briefly what he was thinking about.

As far as Scar was concerned, Fuwaad had a shrewd idea.

He talked often of the Elric brothers, but most especially he talked of Mei Chang and Winry Rockbell-Elric. All four of them had changed him, he'd once said. Sometimes Scar would casually mention eyes that stared at him in his dreams, and a heart that was stronger than his, and Fuwaad knew he meant Mrs. Elric. Colonel Miles had told him once that Scar had murdered her parents. When he'd first heard her name, he had been shocked. Who hadn't heard of the Rockbell doctors? Even he, as young as he had been, could just barely recall kind faces and bright blue eyes, once when his sister had taken him there for a sprained ankle. The details were blurry- his sister's face, their faces, but he could just see, somehow, in the back of his mind, see them as wisps that remained just out of reach, something warm and comforting, like with his own parents. Seeing Mrs. Elric had brought those small memories back. She had their eyes. Their smiles, their kind voices.

_She had smiled a lot._

Quickly he turned his thoughts away from his brief time spent with her.

"I owe her more than this." Scar's quiet voice startled Fuwaad out of his thoughts, and he looked around. Scar's face was still in his hands, voice slightly muffled. He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Fuwaad.

"I could give my life," he said, hands over his eyes. "And it would not pay my debt. On top of that she would not except my life for her own; not out of any malice, but because she would not wish for anyone to die for her…" He lapsed into silence again.

For a moment, the people- _evil ones_- danced in front of his eyes as he had seen them; laughing, determined, loving, and strong. Now they were dying, and his own imagination filled in the details, because he, a bringer of justice, did not have the strength to look upon those he had helped to judge.

He stood, and left the room.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

In the end, alkahestry had produced little results. Their life flow had been corrupted, darkened by their sickness, but he could not see where it came from, how it had happened. Their bodies appeared to have been weakening over days, and now continued to do so every second, bit by bit.

It wasn't a conventional sickness; if anything it was a very complicated virus, but even then, it was doubted to be so. It would not be contagious, but with their bodies weakening, staying at the hospital, surrounded by those with sickness was too risky. They were moved to the Armstrong estate, and their loved ones sat at their bedsides, hardly able to move.

Doctor Marcoh had also been able to do little; without a philosopher's stone, he was not the miracle doctor he had once been. He told them that they needed water, that their blood flow needed to be slowed if not stopped; they needed food, and lots of rest, with cloths on their foreheads to help keep the fever down.

None of his suggestions, nothing Al or Jia had been able to do, had done anything.

The meetings were halted for the time being, and no one spoke of if they would begin again. They were in limbo, living each minute, each day, slowly, second by second.

When the door slammed open, Ed felt as if he were the one asleep, dreaming, hazy, watching as events happened all around him.

Olivia Armstrong surveyed them coolly. She barely glanced at her brother. "You're all fools."

There was no anger; only a muted reaction as the words hit them. Ed looked at her, and then at his wife again.

"Weak, at that," Olivia spat, stepping more into the room, and this time there was slight fury. Ed felt it sharpen in the air.

"You have abandoned everything to sit here and do nothing." Olivia's eyes narrowed. "I am ashamed to have expected better."

"Stop it!" Jia's voice was shrill, and it was that that brought them back. Something dark and furious coiled in his body.

"You suggest we leave them? Abandon our families?" Roy's voice was softly menacing, his hands shaking, his daughter watching the exchange with wide eyes.

"You are crying," Olivia said dismissively. "Crying and not bothering to try anything else-"

"SHUT UP!" The words exploded out of his mouth, and he was screaming at her, and Al advanced forward, beating him there, grabbing at her.

"We can't leave them, we can't give up on them and go about in these meetings while they are dying!" Roy bellowed, and his daughter stepped back from them all.

Olivia did not blink, but she hit Al swiftly in the gut with the hilt of her sword.

"Get up," she said, and she looked at them all. Before they could react, she spoke again, cold as ever. "You can't help them by sitting here."

She glanced once at her brother, and then turned and left the room. Ed heard her outside, assuring everyone that there was no problem.

Jia turned to look at Mei, her eyebrows furrowed. Ling, dark circles under his eyes, stared at his hands, clenching and unclenching them.

Roy sank slowly into his chair, and Maisa hesitantly plucked at his sleeve. He looked down at her, and something in his face crumpled as he lifted her up and wiped at her eyes. "Sweetie…"

"Its okay, daddy," Maisa said, her voice cracking a little. "Its just water."

Roy pulled hr close, and she buried her face in his chest.

Al was still on the floor, and had not moved.

Ed felt boneless, weak, and he stumbled into his own chair, staring at Winry's sleeping face. There was dried blood around her nose and mouth, her lips creased in a frown. He felt her hair, her cheeks. His Winry, his beautiful, strong, amazing, Winry was dying.

_No. Not Winry. Not Winry. Dammit, not while I'm here-_

His knuckles were white.

"Tomorrow," Roy said suddenly, and Ed started, glancing at him. "Tomorrow, Maisa, I have to work. I can't..." He seemed to choke on his words. "I can't be here."

"I'll watch over mommy," Maisa said, like she was finishing his thought. "She needs to be kept warm and she needs to have her fever checked."

Roy gave a shadow of a smile. "She's in your capable hands."

Maisa smiled, and Roy looked at Ed, Al, and Ling. "Tomorrow?"

Al nodded stiffly, standing, walking over to his wife again. He hesitated, and then brushed back her hair. "We'll find out how this happened." He looked up. "If you are right, brother, and someone did this to them, we will get them, find them, hurt them."

Ed knew, as if he were hearing the words from his brother's mouth, that they would see the bastards dead.

Jia did not seem to have heard what had been said; she nodded to herself as if she, too, had decided something.

Ling stood suddenly, and Ran Fan swung into the room, landing in a crouch. She stood and bowed to Ling, and the room at large.

"Master," she said, "There has been no sign of anyone attempting to enter the gates that should not have."

Ling have a faint nod, staring at her.

"I will return now to continue observing." She bowed again.

"Ran Fan," Ling said sharply. "Take off your mask."

Ran Fan had frozen. "Master, I see no reason as to why-"

"Take it off, now!"

"Master-" Her voice was barely a wisp, and as Ling jumped at her and ripped off her mask, she swayed. Blood collected at her eyes, dripped from hr nose, and she stumbled back, stumbling and falling backward through the window.

"Ran Fan!" Ling lept out the window after her, and they rushed to the edge, peering down below.

Jia had reached it first, and whispered- "He caught her- he caught her…he ran and…"

But it was not Ling holding Ran Fan's body. Fuwaad held her, his eyes wide, crouched on the grass. Ling landed beside them and took Ran Fan into his arms at once, sprinting up the steps into the house.

Before they could do more than pull back from the window, a terrible clatter sounded beyond the door- something falling down the steps, landing with a sickening thunk. A split second later a terrible, agonizing scream filled the air.

They ran to the door, flinging it open. Lying at the bottom of the stairs was Vanni, blood oozing from her nose and the corners of her eyes, her arm bent the wrong way. Ciros knelt beside her, whispering frantically in Areugan, brushing her hair back, calling for help, looking at them all with pleading eyes. More rushed forward to help, and soon her limp body was lifted, and carried up the stairs to wait for the doctor. As Ed passed Ciros, who would not let himself be separated from her, Ed knew the man did not see him in return, his gaze riveted on his wife's face, all the while making terrible sobbing sounds.

Ed knew those sounds. He felt rather than heard them every time he looked at Winry as she was now, had heard Ling make it when Ran Fan fell out the window.

It should have been no surprise, he knew, when Aleka came stumbling out of her room, still in her nightclothes, frightened and suddenly seeming so small, telling them that her husband would not wake up. But still it jolted him, somehow, jolted his body and his mind and he reeled back, trying to place his thoughts as more people went to Demos, as a quiet filled the house, a stillness brought with death or fear.

_Winry, Winry, oh Winry, please, please-_

The words were useless, so fucking useless and he could do nothing but stare, stare at her as she lay, unmoving, hardly breathing. He tried to walk back to the room, tried to not think about Winry or Mei or Riza or Armstrong, Demos, Vanni, all bleeding, tried to not picture it in his mind, how they could all die.

…_or all of them will die._

Knox had told them that, at the hospital, said it in helplessness, and yet…

_Or all of them will die._

For the first time in days, his mind worked clearly. He sprinted to the room "Al! Al, we have to-"

Ed flung the door open, and froze.

Mei's dark eyes were open, and staring directly at him.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"It is a possibility." Scar said slowly. "And indeed seems to fit at the moment."

All of them were awake. Ed could not being to explain the combination of relief and fear he felt to see Winry's eyes open. She was awake and in pain every moment. He could do nothing about it. He could not help her. Seeing her eyes open had filled him with such hope, and yet as the minutes passed and nothing helped her, that hope began to dim.

"You're sure you don't remember anyone strange offering you a drink, or spraying something at you? Anything like that?" Ling asked, not unkindly.

Mei shook her head, and Winry croaked out a "No." Riza closed her eyes for a moment, thinking hard, but then also shook her head.

"Tons of people want to hurt us," Ed said, continuing to gently rub Winry's stomach or head, whichever she gestured to. "Bradley supporters aren't completely gone yet, and a lot of people resent us for the reforms in Isvhal. On top of that, there's the other side of things, those that hate Amestris, and its military, for its involvement in all of the border skirmishes and the Ishval war."

"We were just kids then," Al pointed out softly, pressing a fresh cold cloth to Mei's head. She gave a weak smile in gratitude. "I don't understand it, but some might. You may be on to something, Ed."

After the past frantic hours, there was a strange calmness among them. Their desperation was still there, ever present, striking them with renewed force every time one of them coughed or spoke in their raspy voice. Maisa, who listened to their conversation without saying a word, periodically changed the cloth on Riza's forehead, or tucked in the blankets around her. She looked at them every once in a while, and Ed knew that she took in all they were saying, but that she did not understand. For a moment he rather thought that they should have found some way for her to leave the room, or to relocate their discussion, but there was little he could do about it now.

"Perhaps," Armstrong wheezed, "It is as…you said…hatred…revenge. That can blur the lines of-" he coughed again. "-reason." A sheen of sweat coated his forehead, and it was unsettling in a way Ed could not describe to hear his normally booming voice so quiet.

Keeping them in the same room was more of a convenience than anything else, but Ed hardly thought about it. All of them lying there, hurting…it was almost too much.

The door opened slowly, and Roy stood there, shoulders slumped, and from the look on his face Ed knew that what he said next would not be good.

"What is it?" Al asked, half standing.

"Did Dr. Marcoh figure anything out?" Ed demanded, also standing.

Roy hesitated, and spoke tiredly. "Leona Bradley was found in her house by her son. Dead. Bleeding from her eyes, and her nose."

A slight gasp seemed to collectively fill the air. Maisa, with big eyes, clenched Riza's hand. "Eyes and nose…" she whispered. "Like momma. Daddy, does this mean-"

"No, no, sweetie," Roy quickly stepped toward her. "No. Mrs. Bradley died because of her age. Her body couldn't handle this sickness." Ed could tell that Roy regretted that he'd had to say anything at all. It was difficult, he knew, to remember at times that Maisa was so young. She spoke and thought like someone much older, but she was still a child. She could have defined death in a textbook, right along with war and revenge, but she still would not understand.

Riza squeezed her daughters hands, and gave a small smile.

"Your mother," Roy continued, "Is the strongest person I know. She has the strength that can let her overcome any obstacle. So Maisa, what you have to ask yourself is this: Do you believe in your mother's strength?"

Maisa looked up at him, confusion written all over her face. "Daddy, she could still die- cause a lot goes wrong in the body, 'specially when its weak, and-"

"Listen." He kneeled down and took her shoulders in his hands. "Do you trust in your mother's strength?"

After a moment, Maisa nodded, a few tears falling from her eyes. Roy seemed choked for a moment, and then continued. "Good. That means that you and I have to help her however we can, but also that we can never ever give up on her. Ever. Do you understand me?"

Again she nodded, and she wiped at her tears stubbornly. Roy released her shoulders and pulled her close, one of his hands meeting with Riza's, and holding it just as tightly.

"Daddy," Maisa pulled back. "What about Selim?"

Roy kissed her forehead. "Selim is going to be staying here with us. In fact, he is going to be here in a few minutes. Would you go get ready to meet him, please?"

Maisa looked up at him, and for a moment some of her usual frankness. "If you wanted me to leave, you could'a just said so."

Something like a smile twitched at Roy's mouth. "Would you have left?"

Maisa frowned. "Eventually." She looked at her mom, and slipped off her chair, wrapping her arms quickly around her mother's neck. "I'll be back soon."

"Love you," Riza whispered gratingly, closing her eyes, pressing her face into her daughter's hair.

"Love you too momma." She pulled back and looked at Riza's face, and then quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Roy sank into the chair his daughter had occupied, running a hand over his face.

"Have they done an autopsy yet?" Ling asked, and Roy nodded.

"There wasn't much they could determine that we didn't already know. It spreads through the body and weakens it, bit by bit."

"This doesn't mean we can rule out Bradley supporters," Scar mused. "They may have turned on her the moment she started working with us."

For a moment, Ed thought about the smiling woman he had seen only a few days before. Dead. Even though she had been in her sixties, it wasn't easy to picture it. She had been one of those people that seemed to not have an age.

Winry shifted beside him, and he looked back immediately. "How long have we been…out?" She rasped, coughing again.

"Three days now," Ed said softly, stroking her hair. He'd helped her to shower, thankful that the beads of water had blended with his tears- already she was so thin, and when she coughed, blood always came out.

Winry nodded, and then froze, her eyes going wide.

Fear sliced into his heart. "Winry?"

"Today is the twenty-eighth?" He could hardly hear her voice.

"Yeah. Winry, what is it?" Anxiously, he wiped at the tears that suddenly spilled from her eyes. She looked at Riza, and coughed, the blood splattering the sheets. Ed held her until it stopped, her body shaking.

"I'm six…" she said weakly, and a sob came up her throat, "six days late."

Riza's eyes widened, and Mei actually gave a gasp. Ed did not understand, and Winry buried her face in his shirt.

He found that his throat was dry, and he had no idea why.

"I'll call Doctor Knox," Scar said behind him, and Roy stood. "Doctor Marcoh as well."

Ed turned his head to all of them, the understanding just flitting out of his grasp. Al was staring at Winry in horror, and Ling had partially stood from his seat, but was frozen, as if at a complete loss for what to do.

Mei stirred beneath her sheets, and Al pushed her back. "No," he said, and his voice cracked. She looked at him once, dried blood on her lips, and after a second he leaned forward and lifted her up with ease. She curled against him, looking like the little girl they had met years ago.

Shakily, Al kissed the top of her head and Roy, as if sensing what would happen, picked up a chair and set it next to Winry's bed. Ed watched in a fog.

Al set Mei down gently, and for a moment it seemed that she would not be able to stay upright. Then she leaned forward, and touched Winry's shoulder. Winry looked at her, and then laid back, tears still falling gently.

Mei pulled weakly at her blankets, and without thought Ed helped her. She lifted up Winry's shirt, and pressed her hands to Winry's stomach, drawing an invisible circle with her palms. Mei closed her eyes, and for several moments no one moved as Mei continued to move her hands in circles, and something like a faint light seemed to come from them.

Mei's eyes opened, and she sagged against Al. "Alive," she breathed, and Winry's eyes closed in response.

Some kind of sound came out of his mouth, but he didn't hear it as Winry reached out for him and he cradled her in his arms. He held two fragile lives now. Lives that could so easily die.

Part of him could not react, could not comprehend, so he held Winry close, and found also that he could not let go.


	10. Chapter 10

Well, here we go, not too much to say about this one. :)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Ten<span>

The next day, two others fell victim to the strange sickness.

Colonel Miles was found on the floor of his room. Adeel, one of the Ishvalan councilors and Scar's former master, was found in the hallway. Both bleeding from their nose and eyes, weak, unconscious, and they were moved to a free room; the other was filled up by Winry, Riza, Mei, Colonel Armstrong, Demos, and Vanni, now. There was not much discussion about the shared rooms, only brief talk of finding one big enough to fit them all. Soon, it was decided upon and made into action. The weakened people were moved into one room- one large enough to accommodate should even more become sick.

There was worry over Adeel, not as young as he once was, of dying like Mrs. Bradley had. However, nothing had yet happened, and he, alongside others, remained asleep.

There was an important order given to the cooks; whatever food Mrs. Elric could get down had to be mixed with some kind of vitamins- vitamins that pregnant women needed.

Ran Fan, still unconscious, was often visited by her Emperor, who sat at her side and said nothing, and did not touch her in the familiar way others touched their loved ones.

Vanni and Demos did not wake yet. Their spouses sat at their sides, and Ciros did not respond to anyone that tried to talk to him. He would not eat, instead trying to get some water down his wife's throat. Aleka sat at her husband's side, and did not cry. She had cried the first day. Now she watched, and when the meetings were called, she stood, and went to them without complaint.

During the day, meetings ensued, but there was little discussed; none of them knew what to do but watch the dying people waste away.

In the evenings they returned, watching their loved ones, taking turns sleeping, whispering amongst themselves what could have happened. Ed knew that they had to find a more private place to meet; keeping everyone in one spot may have been more practical, but it wasn't easy to discuss anything with those they may not want listening just a few feet away.

The phone rang behind him, and he barely glanced up. Winry was smiling, just a little. He'd been telling her one of the stories his mother had told to them- one not about princesses or anything like that, one about a dark lord and an all powerful ring. Even with the more fantastical elements, Ed, a man of science, had loved the story as a child, and telling it now brought an odd sense of comfort, even if he had to make up a few parts he couldn't remember. Winry had been paying attention though; even in her weakness she had shaken her head, laughing softly, but she did not correct him.

On his other side, Al would take over when his voice began to get hoarse. Mei had never heard the story before and watched with wide eyes quite recognizable in the faces of Maisa and Selim, who sat at Riza's bedside and listened. Maisa had not made one remark about how impossible it was, likely due to Selim. During the story he did not laugh, but a few times he smiled and Ed knew it was a start.

"Sir?" The maid called out for him, and he turned around. "The phone is for you."

_Probably Granny,_ Ed thought in sadness. He'd called the Rockbell house and left a message the day before, but he was surprised she'd responded so quickly. She was supposed to be making a trip to Rush Valley (much to Domonic's reported horror) and Ed had not expected the message to reach her so soon. He watched as Maisa and Selim ran out the door, discussing the food they would bring back.

He picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello, FullMetal Alchemist."

He stiffened, raising an eyebrow. The female voice on the other end was cool, and almost amused. "Who is this?" Al, from Mei's side, looked over in concern.

"We warned you once already. Turn yourselves in, or all of them will die."

Ed froze. He couldn't breathe. He heard Al's worried voice, heard Roy coming back into the room, and could only stutter as the words hit him. "You…"

"Us," the woman responded silkily. "Its hardly just me. We have been watching for a long time-"

"SHUT UP!" Ed shrieked into the phone, talking over her. "You bastards! Tell me what you did- now, tell me, fix it, you fuckers or else-"

The woman laughed. "Your famous temper, FullMetal Alchemist! Truly, I am honored." Her voice lowered. "Tell me, how much is she bleeding? She'll be throwing it up soon too-"

"You bitch-" Ed snarled, and he only vaguely registered more people drawing around him.

"The woman continued quite calmly. "There is a cure."

Ed stopped mid sentence.

"We have it," she went on. "The moment you give yourselves over- all of you that got that letter- we will administer that cure. One of us will call each day to get your answer."

"Why are you doing this?" He demanded. "Give me that cure now, or I swear I will find you fuckers, find you and-"

"-until you give an affirmative answer, more will be hurt, and more will die." She snorted. "Why are we doing this? Because you deserve to pay for your crimes. And we intend to make all of you pay until you beg for mercy. You'll die eventually, not unlike how she is dying now, bleeding, weak, hardly able to move at all-"

"No! Shut up, you-"

"You have less than two weeks until they die."

The line went dead. Ed threw the phone at the wall.

_Give- give anything-Winry-oh Winry- give it all, give myself over_

He knew they were talking to him, but his thoughts whirled too fast for him to speak.

_But Al- no, no, not Al, Al can't do that, no, no, no-_

But he had to save her. He couldn't let her die.

_Hurt the bastards, kill them-_

Yes, that was it.

He realized belatedly that Al was shaking him, calling his name desperately. "-ther, brother, who was that? Ed, what-"

"There's a cure," Ed whispered.

Everyone in the room stopped moving, and a heavy silence fell. "She told me…We give ourselves over- all of the leaders too, and Olivia, everyone that got that letter before. They'll kill us, but give them the cure."

Ciros stood suddenly, half stumbling toward him, blind hope shining in his eyes. "Let's do it. Now. Can you call them back? We can-"

"Don't be a fool," Olivia growled, crossing her arms.

"Fool?" Ciros rounded on her, fresh tears in his eyes. "Why is it not worth it to save them? Tell me why their lives aren't worth our own! Tell me, you-" Much like with Al before, Olivia very calmly hit him in the gut with the hilt of her sword. He sank to the ground, gasping, and she said cuttingly, "We cannot trust these murderers."

"Trust?" Ciros gasped, struggling to his feet. "They will give them the cure! What else matters?"

For a moment, they all stared at him, and Ed couldn't pretend he didn't sympathize. Ling watched Ciros with a tight jaw, and spoke through clenched teeth. "And after we die? What then?" Ling spat the words. "If you think that you can trust these people to fulfil their promises than you are delusional!" He put his face very close to Ciros's, and spoke quietly. "If I could do this and know that they would stay safe, I would do it. But I will not take a gamble on their lives!"

Roy did not speak. Ed knew that he was thinking along with Ed- to stop them stop them from hurting their loved ones ever ever again.

Aleka spoke now, coldly, a hand on her own sword. "For their crimes, these terrorists will die. For doing these things, they will die."

Al, Ed knew, was thinking of giving himself over, but they couldn't protect those they loved if they were dead. He remembered what Al had screamed at him, all those years ago, when he had been willing to give into his despair.

"_How could you give up and choose death?"_

The anger filled him like a raging fire. "You would leave your wife in the mercy of those murderers?" Ed spat at Ciros, who flinched. In the silence that followed, he sank to the ground, shaking, his head in his hands.

Scar spoke, then. "We must use what we know. If we do that, we can stop them."

"Kill them," Ling corrected in his quiet fury. His hands were shaking.

Majid looked at Ling in slight surprise. "Justice is rarely brought about by death. They will pay for their crimes, and if it is seen fit, they may face a firing squad-"

"They _will_ face a firing squad," Ling countered. A few Xingese guards looked faintly surprised at his vehemence.

Ed could hardly think as they argued back and forth. There was a cure, a way, a way for Winry to be okay, for the little life inside of her to live, a way for all of them to sit back up and smile again. It took him a while to realize that the talk had died down. "We don't really know anything," he said furiously.

"We must double the guards," Roy said aloud. "I'll tell President Grumman. FullMetal, Alphonse, come along, the President wishes to see you."

Ed snorted, and Al looked at Roy as if he were insane. "He can come and see us, then! We can't just leave now, when-"

Roy's eyes narrowed, and Ed stopped mid sentence. "Dogs come when they are called, FullMetal. Come with me."

_Fuck, Mustang, what do you want?_

Ed scowled, but followed him out the door, Al behind him.

Roy didn't leave the house; rather he took a few turns and walked down several hallways before he stopped, looked around, and handed Ed a piece of paper with an address and a time scribbled on it. Without a word, Mustang nodded, and then turned on his heel, leaving them in the hall.

Al called after him, but Ed nudged him, and gestured to the address.

"Two days?" Al whispered next to him, eyebrows drawing together. Ed nodded, stuffing the paper in his pocket.

_Two days. We will plan. We will figure out how to find these fuckers, and make them pay._

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

"How were you able to sneak away?" He demanded.

She crossed her arms. "Even my guards are distracted right now- and I left a decoy, something I learned from stories about Ed."

"Well good for you, but what does that have to do with me? I don't want to argue about alchemy-"

"Will you stop talking for just a moment, please!" she growled at him, and Fuwaad scowled.

"Why should I be quiet? You dragged me in this room, and now you're telling me you need my help! What could I do to serve the Lady Jia?" He finished sarcastically.

She raised her eyebrows, and for a moment looked almost hurt. "Quit being so cranky and listen, dammit! I need your help, please!"

He was tempted to keep arguing, not even sure why he was so angry, but then nodded stiffly.

She let out a deep breath. "Listen. There is something major going on here. Mei and everyone- I think that Ed is right, that someone did this to them. I want to investigate further if I can, but the problem is, I'm surrounded by guards. So I need your help to sneak me out, and to look around when I can't. If we keep looking hard, we may be able to discover something-"

He felt as if every muscle in his body had frozen solid. "Why are you telling me these things?" His voice was a whisper.

She looked surprised at his reaction, and then straightened. "Because you are less concerned about my safety, and won't tell me to not act." She hesitated, and spoke more softly. "And because you could have let Ran Fan fall. But you didn't. Just consider what I'm saying, okay?"

He could not speak.

He saw their eyes, suddenly, as they had been- clear, warm, loving. This girl, the annoying girl that always had to be right, was surrounded by those that loved her.

_Revenge. Right. They deserve it._

But they loved her, and she them, and now there were crying children and husbands and brothers, just like back home, and there was no satisfaction, no relief. He begged for it to come, tried to call the righteous anger and sadness forward. It came, but not how he had expected.

_My uncle never looked at me that way. He raised me but never looked that way. He lost the ability to do that long ago-_

Jia glanced back at him once before she left, and her eye and skin color did not strike him, just her pain, her desperation.

_-and his anger is not mine._

For a moment, pure clarity washed over him, and he could not move. He stumbled, catching himself on the wall, his shoulders shaking.

He hardly remembered the war. He knew he'd lost his parents, his sister, but he only vaguely recalled them. He could just barely remember blasts and cries and screams of fear and anger. Amestrian, Ishvalan, mixing together until he could not tell the difference.

Fuwaad felt possessed, and yet free, his body moving without thought, not knowing who he was searching for, realizing as soon as he saw Scar, kneeling beside his master, praying.

His words were almost a whisper, but still they came, and he did not regret them.

"Can I speak privately with you?"

Scar looked up and searched his face, and Fuwaad saw the pain in the older man's eyes. After staring at him for a moment in silence, Scar rose, and nodded.

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

Two days after the warning phone call, the Red Lion Hotel blew up. Staying inside were many of the people that came to represent trade- Carl Webb among them. Most guests escaped, but many still did not- including Webb.

To those in the Armstrong estate, the warning was clear.

"Who can we trust?" Grumman asked. They were in an old warehouse, waiting for Scar and Olivia to arrive. Ed sat on a barrel, Al standing against the wall, both staring at the floor.

"No one," Roy said. "Whoever is doing this knows us, and-"

"-and our weaknesses," Ling said from the corner. He was still very adept at sneaking away from his guards. Seeing him there, legs crossed, hands clenched on his sword, brought back memories of another warehouse years ago.

"That's right," Ed said slowly. "They didn't attack us directly." He stood. His mind had been sluggish for days, but now everything fell together. "Our wives, our sisters, close friends-" he turned to Ling. "They knew to go for Ran Fan. Mei is your sister but they didn't attack your future wife- they _knew_ better."

Ling nodded stiffly.

"How could they have been watching us so closely…" Al whispered, a hand over his eyes. "They have to be close by, here with us, watching still- like in the days of President Bradley!" Al lowered his hand suddenly. "What about the ambassadors, or their guards? Some of these people could be there- they would know where we were staying, what the security was like- everything!"

The door slid open behind them, and Scar stood there, pale, and pushing Fuwaad in front of him. Olivia followed behind, scowling.

"Scar!" Grumman stood. "Why did you bring the boy with you?"

Scar spoke through clenched teeth. "Because Fuwaad has rather unique insights. Tell them." He pushed the boy forward, and Fuwaad stumbled into the center of them, looking around nervously. His eyes were red as if he'd been crying, and he ran a hand over his face, standing straighter. When he looked at them again, he was determined- and sorry.

"The people who did this are part of a group called Pravda. It means Justice. Their goal is to make all of you suffer in the worst possible way, surrender, and then die. Then they plan to take on the world and make it a better place." He spoke the words in a slight rush.

No one moved, and Fuwaad took a deep breath, continuing. "Their leader is someone they call 'The Victor'. Another member is known only as 'The King. I know that there are three of them among the leaders and guards and ambassadors here, somewhere among them. They have more bombs, more poison, and they have a cure in case they are accidentally poisoned themselves. I don't know who has it. These people are from all of the countries, and they want all Amestrians dead."

The silence continued to stretch on. "…how do you know all of this?" Roy said softly.

Fuwaad closed his eyes for a moment. "My uncle is among them. He brought me into the group as well. My job was to…" he choked for a moment. "To work beside Scar and discover his weaknesses…" He went on before they could say anything. "My uncle raised me. He told me that this was right, that you all had to pay for this, but I don't think I ever really believed it-" He stopped suddenly, and looked at his hands. "His name is Anjum."

"One of the Ishvalan councilors," Grumman said shrewdly.

Fuwaad nodded. "Yes, he-"  
>"What did you all do to them?" Ed demanded roughly.<p>

Fuwaad closed his eyes again. "Poison. Devised by someone in the group- a chemist. I don't know who, but that it's a woman. She created the poison herself."

"Tell us everything you know," Ling said fiercely. "Now."

So the boy spoke. His words were desperate, fevered, but Ed noticed that he was not desperate for forgiveness- rather, he was desperate that his words be of help. He spoke of how they had been planning this for years, how they had followed them and watched carefully, how they had made sure to target ones they loved.

"- and there is another known as 'The Queen' who's supposed to be really rash, my uncle was complaining about it once, and all of them have personal reasons for hating Amestris." He stopped rather suddenly, panting a little. The silence came again, filling the room, somehow louder than shouts.

"You do realize," Grumman said after a while, "That this very well could be all part of the plan? That we have no reason to trust you?"

Fuwaad sagged a little, but nodded.

"Willing to turn in your uncle, are you?" Ling asked, his head cocked to the side.

Fuwaad hesitated. "He raised me. I don't want him to die, but…I can't let him- I can't." His shoulders were shaking. Ling nodded to himself, as if in deep thought.

"We can't ignore this," Ed said, his hands clenching. "We have to do something about this. If we do it right, we may draw them out, or else get information-"

"And possibly alert them to the fact that we have an informant?" Grumman asked, one hand curling his beard absentmindedly.

"What else can we do?" Al was looking at Fuwaad very hard, as if trying to sense if he was innocent or not.

Olivia snorted. "Hate to agree with him, but we have to act. Inaction will get us nowhere. We don't have much time. We act quickly, and soon." She looked at Fuwaad in disgust. "And you, you can prove your usefulness by telling us everything you learn from now on."

"And," Ed added, his eyes narrowed, "We can't let you go anywhere alone when we can help it."

Fuwaad nodded. "Yes, but-"

"They will catch on fairly quickly once we arrest his uncle," Scar pointed out, and Fuwaad nodded again, looking worried.

Ling was looking at Fuwaad again. "Maybe not. Do you know if your uncle poisoned anyone, and how he did it?"

"Yes." Fuwaad hesitated. "He poisoned Adeel. With his ring, he coated the jewel in poison, I know because he told me to not touch it."

To Ed's surprise, a very satisfied smile grew on Ling's face.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

It was difficult to not stare at him.

Al sat next to his brother, knowing that his brother was having the same problem. Jia sat on his other side, her eyes flicking around to those that were suspects. She'd been informed when he returned the night before of everything- and had been quiet for a while since. He knew that she was not sure what to think, like all of them.

There was Majid- the Ishvalans had more of a right than any to hate Amestris; he had no one he cared about that had suffered with the poisoning, although Adeel was claimed to be his friend.

Nicolai; Drachma hated Amestris after all of the border wars at Briggs. No one close to him was there, or had suffered from the poison (though, again, some ambassadors claimed to be his friend.)

They could not trust Aleka or Ciros. They knew it unlikely they were involved, but they could not take the risk.

Ling was sitting not too far away, pale and drawn. The only reason Jia had come was because of Ling and Al's insistence. They needed all the eyes they could get.

The people around him were discussing the Red Lion hotel, how many had escaped, and who could have done it. There was little debate on that matter.

Roy did not look around, except to watch whoever was speaking.

Ciros had been very quiet, his eyes red. Al hadn't heard him say a word since he had demanded they all turn themselves over- another reason he was suspected.

Al watched the ambassadors; taking note of how their eyes moved, their body language, trying to sense who the other people were.

"Politics is the motivation here," Grumman said, standing to be heard over the rabble. "This group calls for our deaths- something they deem to be justice. And yet they are willingly murdering the innocent. We cannot let this continue." He stopped. "I cannot speak for all of you. I find it to be foolish to give yourselves over. If we die- and you cannot deny that is their plan- more will suffer and die. It will not be a solution. So I ask that you stay among us and fight."

Roy hesitated, and stood as well. "There is nothing easy about this. There is no immediate end in sight, and we can make no promises. Some of you may wish to leave. You have that right. But the deaths will not stop. And eventually, they will follow you."

Ling stood now, and Al could see how pallid he was, how difficult it was to stand among people they could not trust. Al felt Jia tense; she knew what was coming. It was a gamble. Dangerous. But a risk they had to take.

_Mei, Winry, please hold on._

"There is one among us," Ling began softly," That we cannot trust."

Al watched them very closely; all froze for a moment, and then looked around. Ciros raised his head, eyes narrowed.

"He was witnessed by my most loyal bodyguard, before she fell victim to this terrible poison. She witness him giving poison to another. She did not recognize it for what it was at the time. But now it is confirmed."

Ling did not look over, not yet, staring straight ahead.

"There is a mark on councilor Adeel's arm, one that was tested by Doctor Marcoh, Ambassador Alphonse Elric, and my wife to be." Ling inclined his head toward them, and Jia did the same.

Ling continued. "They found in this mark, the same poison as was in his body."

Anjum was definitely nervous now, putting his hand to his mouth as if about to throw up, and Al saw Ed give a terrible smile down at him.

"This mark," Ling finished quietly, "Was given to him when councilor Anjum cut him with his ring."

There was an instant uproar; people shouting that it must be true, that it couldn't be true, asking how they could know, and Grumman shouted above them all that Anjum was under arrest.

Before the soldiers could reach him, Nicolai got there first. "How could you?" He screamed, spit flying, grabbing Anjum by the collar. "How could you do this? You- you'll pay, you bastard, how could-"

"King Nicolai-" People pulled at his arms as Anjum struggled against the soldiers that came behind him, struggled against the handcuffs at his wrists, and Nicolai stepped back, still breathing hard.

Ciros burst through a moment later, literally clawing to get at Anjum, unintelligible sounds coming from him, more like hisses as he struggled to hurt Anjum, to do _something_-

Anjum was led away, and Jia grasped his hand for a moment. "Get him," she whispered, and Al nodded. "Make him talk."

Al looked at his brother, nodded, and set off after Grumman, leaving the antechamber and heading down to the jail cells to interrogate the prisoner.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

She giggled to herself.

The Wise One looked back at her coldly. "Why are you so happy? The Star has been taken prisoner! They are too close to discovering who we all are!"

The Queen giggled again. "What does it matter if the Star has been taken? He is unimportant. There is still much we can do."

The Wise One narrowed her eyes. "We must wait for our Victor before we act outside of the plan. For now, we must stick to it, and call the evil ones in around an hour."

The Queen glowed. Her King would be so proud of her for taking initiative, just as he'd been proud of her blowing up the hotel.

"The evil ones will not be able to act soon," she whispered happily.

The Wise One rounded on her, eyes wide. "What did you do?"

She smiled.

The Wise One took her by the shoulders, shaking her. "What did you do, you fool?"

She threw back her head and laughed. "Soon the Flame Alchemist will be caught in a vice, and I will laugh with my King while he struggles."

She continued to laugh, even after the Wise One struck her across the face.

"You will die too, you know," She called after her, giddy. The Wise One did not answer, and the Queen laid back in contentment.

_Soon, it will end._

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"It's been five hours."

"I know. And still, nothing!" Ed slammed his fist against the wall, watching through the door as Roy stood in the cell with Anjum, trying, yet again, to get a response.

"You will die," he told them all when they first asked their questions. "You will die soon."

He did not smile, could not be goaded.

He cocked his head at Roy. "You killed my family. When they tried to run you burned them, and your wife shot them. Only I survived- I lived, and now I am here to make you, and all Amestrians pay for their crimes."

Ed scowled, pushing the door open all the way as Roy exited the cell, shaking his head. "The bastard won't crack. No matter how long we keep him here."

"Still," Al said, watching Anjum with narrowed eyes. "This could make the others come crawling out of the woodwork."

"Maybe."

Ed kicked the wall. "How much longer are we keeping at this?" He was frustrated that all of this appeared to be for nothing- no information, no new leads. Nothing.

Anjum put his hands to his mouth with difficulty, wiping at it.

Roy sighed. "Grumman is going to have one more go. He'll be constantly under surveillance the whole night."

Ed nodded, watching as Grumman entered the cell.

Anjum stood in front of him, straight shouldered and tall, somehow more confident. _Does he feel more powerful against Grumman?_

Anjum spat at Grumman's feet, and the spit was red.

Grumman raised his eyebrows. "Been biting your own tongue, have you?"

For the first time, Anjum gave a flicker of a smile, and before Grumman could say anything, several things happened at once.

Anjum's handcuffs fell to the ground, and he charged at Grumman.

His hand's found Grumman's neck, and twisted until something snapped and the president fell to the ground, and a soldier opened fire at Anjum, who jerked as the bullets ripped through him, and he, too, fell.

The world moved in slow motion, and for a while, Ed found it to be like the silent movies; people moving, yelling, doctors coming for Grumman even though his neck was twisted and his eyes stared blankly, face slightly surprised. He watched the soundless world as they carried out the corpses, and could not think of what to say.

_Didn't move fast enough. Didn't get there in time. Dead. Dead. Like Winry will soon be._

It seemed like hours had passed when the investigations department arrived, and looked at the scene.

"Sir," One of them said to Roy. Roy looked at him in surprise, as if unsure about being addressed at a time like this.

"Sir," the soldier continued, "We found this on the floor." He held up a small pin, covered in blood. "We think he had it hidden in his mouth, sir."

Ed had a sudden vision of Anjum wiping at his mouth, and closed his eyes.

"We think he used it to unlock his handcuffs. He probably would have attacked the first person in there with him once he got them off."

In a little while, all of the other leaders were there, in the antechamber with them. It was decided that Roy, second in command under Grumman, would take control until elections could be held in a few months.

"I-" Roy hesitated. "I do not know what to say right now. I never could have imagined this happening. Never saw myself standing here, like this."

Everyone looked at him, and in the silence after his words, Ed could've sworn he heard everyone breathing.

"President Grumman's funeral will be held this weekend-"

The door burst open, and everyone jumped, whirling around. A young soldier rushed into the room, panting. "Sir! A frantic phone call from the Armstrong estate! Your daughter, she- she collapsed, like the others, bleeding-"

For a moment, Roy swayed on his feet, and caught himself using the back of his chair. Without a word, he ran out of the room.

Ed and Al were not far behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

The little girl looked like a horrible porcelain doll; pale, lips parted, blood like some kind of terrible lipstick, her breathing shallow.

Riza watched her daughter with tear-filled eyes, reaching out for her, brushing her arm softly, whispering words Ed could not hear.

Selim sat at Maisa's side, sniffling, not taking his eyes off of her face.

"Selim," Roy said softly, brushing back Maisa's hair with the back of his hand. "Do you know how this- how-" He seemed to take a moment to take control of himself, and went on. "Did you or Maisa see anyone you didn't know- did anyone try to talk to you, or-"

"Yes!" Selim sat up suddenly, new tears springing to his eyes. He wiped them away stubbornly. "Mr. Mustang, we were at the park a few days ago with Mrs. Hughes, and there was this lady that walked up to Maisa- she talked to her for a moment, and smiled. But I didn't like the smile. And then she reached forward and grabbed Maisa's arm for a second, and then left. Maisa came back and I asked her what happened- she said that she thought the lady's nails had pricked her."

Mei gasped, and then coughed, and Winry slowly put her hand to her mouth, and Riza froze in place. Mei struggled to sit up, and Al pushed her back. "What is it, Mei?"

"Xingese?" she asked in a whisper. "Middle aged?"

Selim shook his head. "N-no. Young, long black hair and clear eyes. Like water."

Ed looked at Winry as she shakily lowered her hand. "Rayna," she rasped.

And again the next hours passed in a blur. He was there, at the dress shop Riza, Mei, and Winry identified. He watched as they stormed inside and took the women away, the youngest, Rayna, struggling and screaming, while the Xingese woman told them feverishly that they were making a mistake, that she hadn't done anything wrong.

Ed was one of the people that went in the back, and found the vials.

There were many of them, all different colors. He knew that the poison, and the cure, were somewhere in them. His hands shook a little as he picked them up, and carried them out. Along the wall were several books in Xingese with covers decorated in illustrations of potions.

"Ed!" Al's voice shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked up from where he was standing. The shop was in disarray; Rayna had kicked over several racks of clothing.

Al glanced around the shop as well, and Ed thought it strange that there was no hope, not yet. But soon, he could feel it coming. Once it hit, he would either be crushed again or he would succeed.

"Hurry up," his younger brother said. "We're taking them to HQ."

She dreamed about the life inside of her. Dreamed about dying- never seeing Ed or Al or her grandmother again. Never working on automail.

Her body continued to weaken. She knew it couldn't last much longer.

Demos, Ran Fan, and Vanni had woken up only a few hours previously. They were weak and thirsty, but hardly able to keep anything down. Like the rest of them.

Fuwaad sat next to Jia. For a while, the girl had avoided him, but as the seconds passed, she seemed to grow used to his presence, and seeing how he looked at them- his guilt so clear, she softened. Winry had a feeling that it was rather how she was with Scar- not exactly forgiveness.

Their spouses had been at their sides, had to be dragged away. Ciros had hardly been able to contain his joy at seeing Vanni's eyes open, to see even her weak smile.

Demos, upon waking, had reached forward, and pulled a cens out from behind Aleka's ear. She had laughed, and cried a little, kissing his forehead, and he had laughed for a moment before the coughing made him stop.

The door opened, and Nicolai stepped in, carrying a tray of food and drink.

"I met the maid coming up the stairs," he explained quietly. He set the tray down, holding out some drinks. Jia nodded politely to him, and Fuwaad did the same, taking the drink offered, having a small sip.

Winry watched the drinks, knowing that she would soon lack the strength to even carry the cup.

Nicolai was pale, quiet, dark circles under his eyes, but he also had a determined air about him, his shoulders set. He hesitated at the door, and turned to them, looking at the small child, unconscious and wheezing in her sleep.

"I…" He swallowed. "I had a little girl once. She was bright, like the sun. Everything I could have wanted. She died when she was just a little older than her." He closed his eyes, and swallowed as if the memories were playing behind his eyes.

"I hope that she soon recovers. And all of you along with her." He gave a small smile, glanced again at Maisa, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Demos was looking at the door with narrowed eyes. "Likes giving drinks, doesn't he?"

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Vanni gasped, and whispered, "At the party-"

Fuwaad dropped his drink with a clatter, looking sickened. He stood suddenly, and ran from the room.

"Fuwaad!" Jia called, sprinting after him, vanishing around the corner.

"Jia," Mei called weakly, struggling to sit up. "Jia, wait!"

But the girl did not respond.

"We have…to contact HQ," Armstrong whispered.

There was a phone on the wall, and Winry began to sit up, to make the short and yet long journey to the phone- to warn them.

_Have to tell them, have to warn them before Nicolai comes-_

Another man appeared in the doorway. He was faintly familiar; tall, Cretian, with dark hair. He was breathing hard, one hand against the doorframe as he watched them with oddly greedy eyes.

Before anyone could say anything, he drew a gun, and fired three times.

Three bullets embedded in Vanni's body; she jerked, giving a strangled cry.

Riza pulled out her own gun, firing with only half of her usual rapidness; striking the man in the shoulder. He grunted, but leveled his gun at Winry. Armstrong lurched to his feet, stumbling, charging at the man as Mei weakly threw a knife that caught in his leg, while another came from Demos, getting the man in the gut.

The man stumbled out the door, Armstrong lumbering slowly, weakly, after him.

"Hospital," Mei gasped, "Vanni-"

The brown-haired, innocent- looking woman gasped for breath, her eyes rolling.

And Winry made the long journey to the phone.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"Dammit!" Fuwaad hissed, skidding to a stop. "We lost him!"

"If we keep moving, maybe we can-" Jia was cut off as the doors flung open behind them. Fuwaad vaguely recognized one of the Cretian Ambassadors, stumbling out the door, bleeding from one shoulder, two knives embedded in his skin. He stopped dead at the sight of them, and raised a gun.

Before Fuwaad could do more than start to push Jia back, five people appeared seemingly out of nowhere- all wielding very long Xingese swords. They pinned the man to the ground, one of them using his sword to knock the gun from his hand.

"Lady Jia!" One of them called, bowing. "Are you unhurt?"

"Fine," Jia said in slight surprise, and then rushed forward a little. "What happened? Who is this man?"

"We heard gunshots, my lady. I'm afraid he shot at the victims- we have others there with them now, so it should be-"

"We need to contact Central, and tell them Nicolai cannot be trusted!" Jia talked over him swiftly. "He is on his way there now, to do who knows what chaos! Some of you call Central, and then come with me!"

"Lady Jia, we cannot allow you to-"

"We have no time for this!" Jia screamed. "Mei is dying, all the people in there are dying and we are letting one of the murders that did this get away! I can help stop him with alchemy! We need to go now!"

As the guards began to protest again, Jia whirled around, and started running.

"Wait!" Fuwaad caught her arm, and she looked back at him, eyes flashing, and for a moment he had the fleeting impression that he ought to be quaking where he stood. "You need to stay here- listen!" He insisted as she tried to interrupt. "We have to be sure that we have evidence- concrete evidence that Nicolai did these things! We need to look at those drinks! Do you think that you could see if it contains the poison, and could you compare it to what is in their bodies now?"

"Yes," she said slowly, no longer fighting his grip. "Yes, but the poison will have spread through their bodies, and will look a little different. I would need them to have just been poisoned to be accurate-"

Fuwaad nodded grimly, and for a moment took her hand. "I just drank some of it. Use me, and then compare it to theirs."

(~-~-~-~-~-~)

The cab ride over was not nearly fast enough.

The Queen, the Star, The Wise One, all taken. The boy poisoned now, useless for the future.

The evil ones were waiting in their antechamber, hoping that soon everything would end.

_It will end. _

He gave the cabdriver a generous tip as they pulled up to the headquarters. They were waiting for him. Waiting for the man, the victor, the one that would end it all.

"Hello." He smiled pleasantly at the secretary. "Are they waiting in the antechamber?"

"Yes." The secretary smiled back. "Please go on ahead."

He had not lied about his daughter, his wonderful little girl. Smiling and bright and kind and perfect, with her mother's eyes and his own smile, smart and strong; not even afraid of the dark.

But she had been taken from him, taken by the Amestrian bastards with cannon fire and gunshots, taken before she was eight years old.

He had not been there with her. He had only come home to find her broken body; shattered, hardly recognizable but for the pin in her hair- the snowflake pin that had belonged to her mother, braided in so carefully each morning.

_They will pay._

Their punishment could not come soon enough.

He reached the door leading up to the seats. It was locked, and he frowned, before going around, and entering through the other door.

Bright light greeted him as he walked into the center of the room.

"Nicolai," Edward Elric's voice said above him, his voice quite calm. You're a bit late."

"I apologize," Nicolai said slowly, walking forward more. It was difficult to see them in the lights. "What is going on? Have the prisoners spoken yet?"

"Only assurances," Aleka said softly. "That their plan would still succeed, because their victor was ready."

He frowned. "That's rather odd. Do you know what that could mean?"

"We have guesses," Alphonse Elric said, just as calm as the others. "We have several new samples of things to analyze, however. The Lady Jia is quite capable of doing such things."

"Samples of what?" He asked, and he found it hard to concentrate on their stupid, stupid words.

Roy shrugged. "Liquids. Drinks. That sort of thing."

He narrowed his eyes. "You suspect me of something. But what?"

"Now now," Roy continued, still softly, his eyes dark. "Do not ask stupid questions. It just wastes time."

Soon, the time was coming soon. "I have no idea what you-"

"Be quiet." This time the words were a little sharper, coming from Ling Yao. Ciros stood and stared down at him with savage hatred. Nicolai had to suppress a smile.

"You will die for what you have done. We have witnesses all around. You cannot run. Guards block the door."

_Perfect. I could not have planned it better._ "You have no reason to be doing this! Dimitri, Voltov- ambassadors, how can you stand for this?" His ambassadors- his father's ambassadors- looked down at him without pity.

Nicolai looked down at the ground, and he heard a great whoosh, looking up, startled, as a ring of flame surrounded him. He looked up at the now standing Roy Mustang, and glared up at him. the devil standing above the flames he wielded. Olivia Armstrong was near him, and she too looked down at him as if he were worms beneath her boots. "You will die," she said, her teeth flashing like that of a beast. "Coward, fool."

He looked down again, and started shaking. It burst from him then, the laughter, and he looked up at them all, smiling widely, throwing open his jacket to reveal an assortment of bombs strapped to himself, his hand reaching toward the trigger.

_So many will die in this enclosed space. They will pay._ Before he could push the button, several things happened at once.

Edward and Alphonse Elric clapped their hands together, and slammed their palms  
>against the wall, and two stone fists shot out at him, throwing him against the opposite wall. A moment later, a sword pinned him to that wall a moment later, encrusted with the Armstrong family crest. He looked up into the demon's unforgiving eyes as the flames roared and shot toward him- all of the demons watching as the fire hit.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

Oh, a few more translations now that they won't be too revealing:

"Hui-ying" means "wise, intelligent, clever"

"Rayna" means "Queen"

"Elroy" means "King". You'll recognize him earlier from the chapter where Winry was presenting Automail, calling him by his last name, "Mr. Girard".

"Anjum" means "stars"

And lastly, "Nicolai" means "victory of the people". I didn't get to develop him as much as I wanted in order for this to be done in time, but oh well.

Enjoy the last chapter!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Thirteen<span>

"You're going to die."

The soldier did not know why he was talking to them, exactly. The sight of them huddled in their cells brought a churning in his gut.

The youngest looked at him with wild eyes. She was standing as close to the cell doors as possible, reaching into the next cell at the man within.

"King Nicolai was killed by Roy Mustang yesterday," he continued, and he felt an odd pleasure at their reaction.

The youngest's head snapped up. "Our Victor," she whispered miserably, "Our Victor- you demons, you killed him, you-"

She reached for him, clawing at him through the bars. He stayed well out of her reach, watching her struggle, the tears filling her eyes.

"King Nicolai," The Xingese one said in surprise, her eyes perhaps a bit too wide to be convincing. "If he was a part of this terrible group, then it was all for the better-"

"Do not disrespect him!" The youngest woman turned on her, screaming, trying to get at her now, spitting at her face. "We were going to destroy them! You, all of you will pay for your crimes, you will die!"

"The poisons were found in your shop, in your rooms. Along with what was later revealed to be a cure," the soldier looked her in the eye. "Alphonse Elric, upon further analyzing them, discovered it."

The youngest woman screamed again. "No! No, they cannot be cured, the evil ones must pay, die and suffer and bleed for their crimes-"

The man tried to say comforting words, but nothing seemed to reach her. She continued screaming, and the soldier turned away. "You will die at noon, for _your_ crimes."

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

Ed watched Roy standing on the platform, reading out the charges. "Murder, terrorism, theft," he said, his voice carrying to the whole crowd.

The cure had been distributed, and they were waiting anxiously for them to fully recover. So far, there had been progress.

For most of them.

Vanni was dead. She had been pronounced dead at around six a.m. that morning. Ciros stood not too far away. He watched the door for when the murderers would come through. He was pale, and seemed to have aged a good thirty years. There were no smile lines on his face any more.

Al stood beside him, and Ling just by him. Aleka stood a bit away, also watching the door, waiting, as they all were.

Roy finished with his brief speech, and stepped backward. There was no regret in his eyes.

Ed had seen a man burned alive. Another thing to add to his list of nightmares. A murderer, the one that had commanded Winry and everyone be poisoned, that they should die, and he was not sorry at all that Nicolai was dead.

No less than fifteen soldiers accompanied the convicted out the door. The evidence had been overwhelming, and the trial rather brief. _Fair, _he told himself. It had been a fair trial. They had had no leg to stand on.

The firing squad lined up in front of them, Havoc and Rebecca among them. Rayna was thrashing and screaming, cursing them all; tears pouring down her face.

Hui-ying said nothing, and stood like a statue.

Elroy on Rayna's side, was whispering to her, as if trying to comfort, but she paid him no attention, screaming.

They were not wearing handcuffs; the soldiers around them were ready with their guns. More surrounded them beyond that with swords and knives, ready should they try anything.

The firing squad raised their guns, and the wind began to blow.

"Ready," Roy called, and Elroy tensed, Hui-ying closed her eyes, and Rayna wailed again.

"Aim," Elroy turned to his wife, and as Roy's mouth began to form the word 'fire', Elroy kissed Rayna swiftly on the mouth. This shocked her as nothing else had, and she looked at him, silent, eyes clear and deep and he stroked her neck, hands closing around it, and before she could even register his actions, he was twisting, and her eyes rolled up and there was a crack, and she fell, hitting the ground, and tears fell down Elroy's face as the squad fired, and he jerked, falling on top of her.

There was no cheering, no relief. Just, as had happened so often lately, a terrible and powerful silence.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

In the days after the shooting, a few meetings took place. They were mostly agreements to meet again; none of them had the energy to stay and talk at the moment. And Ciros needed time to grieve.

He was a changed man. Less stubborn, less outspoken. In fact, he hardly spoke at all. On the day he was to leave, he stopped on his way out, and looked back at them.

"I wish…" He stopped, and swallowed. "That I could change, so much, about what happened here. But I…I will return. To meet with you. To work together." He looked up at them, and though he did not smile, there was something lighter about him. "Thank you. For all that you did. I look forward to working side by side with you in the future."

He shook their hands and left, as quietly as he had come in. Ed knew that he would remain quiet now for much of his life, with Vanni gone from it.

Winry was waiting for him on the couch when he came back. She smiled, and stood as he approached. Before he knew what he was doing, he picked her up, spinning her around.

"Ed-" She gave a startled laugh, her hair flying around her, and he promised himself that he would never forget these moments, forget how beautiful and wonderful she was.

"Ed," she breathed. "You're crazy."

"And you love me for it," he finished fondly, kissing her.

Selim ran by, ducking behind the couch. "Shhh!" He said, and there was a glint of laughter in his eyes. "Maisa's coming."

"Don't worry," Ed whispered back.

Maisa appeared around the corner, and looked once around the room. "Selim," she said, almost in exasperation, "Come out from behind the couch."

"Man," Selim whined, and then stood, truly smiling now. "You still have to catch me!"

Selim was staying with Roy and Riza, and would even be moving into their house. Leona Bradley had had no family, and Maisa was thrilled to have her best friend with her.

Tomorrow, Al, Mei, Ling, and Jia were leaving.

It was hard imagining his brother leaving, after all that had happened lately. But Ed knew it would not be forever.

"Besides," Al had said blandly. "I need a best man for this summer."

Ling appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Ed knew that Ran Fan would be around somewhere; the moment the cure had begun working, she had gone back to work.

"That girl does not understand the concept of rest," Winry had said in mild irritation.

Ling gave them a small smile, and gestured for them to come over. In slight confusion, they followed him up the stairs, stopping in front of Jia's room. He ushered them inside, the guards bowing.

Jia was sitting on her bed, talking with Al and Mei. She looked up in surprise and stood quickly at the sight of them, bowing clumsily. "Ed, Winry! Emperor Ling! What brings you here?"

Ling looked at her for a few moments, and then nodded to himself, smiling.

"How do you like the name Xiu?"

She blinked, confused.

His smile grew. "If you would prefer another name you are welcome to it, but you must decide soon."

Jia stared at him, her eyes wide.

And Ling looked at her seriously. "Jia Cao died a few days ago, in all of the chaos."

Understanding hit her, then, and she let out a small sound, not quiet a gasp.

Ed looked at Ling. "Are you sure you can pull this off?"

Ling did not seem particularly bothered. "There was no time to wait to do a proper funeral in Xing, so we buried her here. The guards are all ready to swear to this." He looked at Jia seriously again. "You cannot return to Xing for some time, I'm afraid." He hesitated, and then bowed. "Live a long life, my lady. Goodbye."

With that, he left, and Jia sank to the floor, staring at the door.

Al and Mei kneeled down next to her. She looked over at them, her eyes filled with both hope and sorrow. Mei smiled kindly. "We'll write, and visit. We promise."

Winry stepped forward. "If you need a place to stay, our home is open."

Jia's eyes flicked to them, and then she leaned forward into Al and Mei's embrace. "I'll miss you so much," she whispered. They held her close, and started singing a song so softly Winry could not hear it, but Jia seemed to take heart in the words. After several moments, she stood and nodded, their hands clasping with hers.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"How long will you be staying?"

He sat down. "Actually, I was going to stay here for quite a while." Fuwaad hesitated. "I want to become a doctor. And Central is full of very good doctors."

Jia nodded, smiling. They were in the hotel room Ed and Winry had rented for her. It was plain, not at all lavish like everything the Emperor owned, and it was wonderful. "I'm going to be staying with Ed and Winry until I sort of…figure things out." She hesitated. It was odd, how she had gone from disliking Fuwaad to telling him all of these things, but she supposed that great change brought, well, change.

"I will miss Xing terribly," she admitted. "But I think I have to stay here."

Fuwaad nodded, and smiled softly. "I understand." He hesitated, and then stood. "I, uh, have to go. I'll send you letters about how medical training is going." He stopped at the door.

"And you can tell me all about alchemy." He looked back and smiled faintly at her. "So we can both change the world, for the better."

He left the room, and Jia felt her smile grow.

(~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~)

"We'll be seeing you soon," Al promised, Winry giving him a tight hug he was only too happy to reciprocate.

"During the summer, we promise," Winry agreed, hugging Mei now, who raised a threatening finger. "You'd better be there!"

All around people were moving, talking. They did not really know that a man had lost his wife, a child had lost his mother. They knew what they read in the papers, but they did not know the horror of watching your loved ones die.

Winry pulled back from Mei, and her hand found Ed's.

Roy and Riza were off to the side with Maisa and Selim, pointing to certain parts of the train, talking happily, all smiling. True, Selim was still quiet, but Ed knew that, like with Ciros, would last for a little while. He also knew that with Roy and Riza and Maisa there to love him, he would find his voice again.

Al pulled him into a hug, and Ed smiled. His brother, strong and walking, alive, living in a distant country, soon to be married. He didn't know of any equivalent exchange in all of the world that could make up for having Al and Winry with him.

Ling shook Ed's hand. "It was good seeing you. Take care of yourself."

"You, too."

Winry looked at him shrewdly. "What will you do?"

Ling did not pretend to misunderstand. "It will be difficult. But if I am to be a catalyst for change in my country- change for the better, than I must rule for the benefit of their future. If I am to have a wife at my side, it will be someone that can fight with me, that I can share my thoughts with. One wife."

His eyes flicked to some place behind them, and then he gave a faint smile. "It may not go over so well, but if I have learned anything here, it is that people _can_ change. That you must work hard, and that you must do what you think is best. Sometimes sticking to tradition is not what is best, in the end."

He bowed to them both. "I will see you again."

And then they were waving, running to keep up with the train as long as they could, calling out goodbyes and words of love- alive, triumphant, moving forward on their own two feet.

Ed and Winry stood on the platform, watching the train leave. Ed's arm held her close, and his other hand met hers at her stomach.

Through everything, the life they had created pulled through, survived, and they would face again whatever would come, together.

* * *

><p>Aaaand, the end. Overall, I feel very proud of this, and worked quite hard on it. I hope you all enjoyed it too. :)<p> 


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